Growing Together
by Negaduck
Summary: The new Muppet Show begins its second season with comedy, adventure, romance, talking sandwiches, and special guest star Weird Al Yankovic! A followup to "Masks."
1. Chapter 1: The Pitch

**Growing Together  
>Part 1: The Pitch<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>The Great Gonzo, wearing a plastic jumpsuit and a pair of protective goggles, looked over a tank of bubbling liquid and declared, "Right now, before your very eyes, I, The Great Gonzo, will electroplate my own nose while reciting the Gettysburg Address! Behold, the bronze rod!" With a flourish he produced a metal rod, an alligator clip attached to one end, with a wire trailing over to a machine festooned with dials and LED bulbs. Two chickens were standing by its side, where a lever-like flip switch stuck out horizontally. "The lead!" He took another wire from the machine and alligator-clipped the end to his own hand. Then he grasped the sides of the tank. "And, the tub of metal salts! Ladies, please!" The chickens fluttered up and landed on the lever. It resisted for a moment, then flipped down, sending the chickens tumbling. The lights flashed and the dials danced. Gonzo jerked slightly as the current began to flow. Then he laughed, tossed the metal bar into the tank, and plunged his nose into the fluid. "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation-"<p>

Fozzie, staring at the monitor, said, "I don't believe it."

"So, whaddaya think? I'm gonna sharpen up the patter, but check it out, it _worked!_ And on only the thirty-seventh take!" Gonzo's voice was slightly muffled because of the thin metallic sheath coating his nose.

Kermit replied, "What do I think? It's dangerous and insane. Nobody in their right mind would do an act like that!"

"Thanks! Is that a yes?"

Scooter remarked, "It doesn't violate anything in the theater's insurance policy."

Kermit paused, thinking, then mentally shrugged and said, "Well... sure, Gonzo, we'll put this in the first show. But why the Gettysburg Address?"

"I lost a bet with Sam."

Fozzie asked, "How're you going to get that metal off your nose?"

Gonzo paused thoughtfully for a second, then said "I'll work on that too." He ran over to the right wings, where Camilla, his wife, and Billie, their almost-two-year-old daughter, were being entertained by a handful of people who were fiddling around with various instruments, including a fiddle, a washboard, and something that twanged comically and made Billie laugh. He exclaimed, "Kermit okayed it!"

Camilla clucked approvingly. Gonzo picked Billie up. Attracted by the strange shininess, she grabbed Gonzo's metal-coated nose. "What this?" she asked.

"My nose," he answered with a grin.

Unsatisfied, she patted it with her hand and said "Hard."

Gonzo replied, "Just for now." To Camilla he said, "Maybe Beauregard has some tin snips."

* * *

><p>Over at the monitors backstage left, Kermit, Fozzie, Rowlf, and Scooter were looking over other acts as Janken, the console operator, put them on the screen. With the show going into its second season, all sorts of strange things were making their way into the audition list. Scooter winnowed out the dull ones, and then he and Kermit and whoever else was interested looked over the rest. Fozzie was too excited to pay much attention. Wringing his tie, he said, "I can't believe it!"<p>

"What's that?" Rowlf asked. They were watching a video of fuzzy creatures doing a juggling act. They juggled themselves. That was unusual, but he didn't find it difficult to believe.

"I can't believe we're going to have Weird Al Yankovic on the show! He's the funniest guy in the music biz, and he's going to be right _here!"_

"Yeah, this'll start the season off with a bang. Can't wait to meet him, huh?" Scooter said.

"I-I don't know if I _can!_ I mean, he's so funny! Compared to him, I'm not funny at all," Fozzie said anxiously.

Kermit said, "Fozzie, you do stand-up comedy and his act is musical. Comparing you to him is be like comparing apples to oranges."

"Would I be the apple or the orange?" Fozzie asked.

"I don't know. You'll be fine, Fozzie. I hear he's a really nice guy."

"Funny _and_ nice," Fozzie whimpered, hiding his eyes.

Miss Piggy swept into the group and said to Kermit, _"Moi_ has been thinking of doing something new and exciting in the show."

"Such as?" Kermit said.

Piggy leaned closer. _"Moi_ is planning a dance act. Something with some real heat in it. And, of course, a certain frog."

Kermit asked, "Uh, er, what would be so different about that? We've danced before."

"Not the way I'm thinking." She leaned further forward and favored him with a smoky gaze. "You dance divinely, Kermie, when properly _motivated._ And we do, after all, need to remind our fans that we're still an item."

"Uh, Piggy—"

Scooter piped up, "Actually, Miss Piggy, Mr. Yankovic has asked to do a song with you in this week's show."

"Mister who?" she said without looking away from Kermit.

"He's our guest this week. He wants to do a love song with you."

She looked up. "Oh, really?"

Seeing that he had her attention, Scooter continued, "Yes. He specifically asked for you, Miss Piggy. I can tell him you have other plans, though." He shrugged and started to turn away.

She said, "Just a minute." He turned back. "What kind of _artiste_ is this Mr. Yanka-something?"

"He's a _great_ one! His music's played all over the world. He's got four Grammys, a bunch of gold and platinum and double platinum albums, and he's worked with some of the biggest names in the music business."

Hooked, Piggy breathed, "And now he wants to sing with _moi."_

"Should I tell him you'll do it?"

"Yes, you may."

"Thanks!" Scooter made a note on his clipboard.

Piggy asked in a sweet voice, "Kermie, you don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? Oh, no, Piggy, it's fine. You'll be great. I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh," she said, a little curtly, then planted a light kiss on the top of his head before leaving.

When she was out of earshot Kermit asked Scooter, "Did he really ask to sing a song with Piggy?"

"Yeah. When we talked on the phone he was full of ideas. Singing with her was one of the first ones he threw out. The song's called _One More Minute_. It's a doo-wop number."

Kermit nodded approvingly, then asked, "What other acts have we got?"

"Remember Lubbock Lou and his Jughuggers? I booked them for the first show."

"Wow, they're still around?" Kermit said, surprised.

"Sure are! Matter of fact, they're already here, all except their jug player. He'll be in before the first show for sure, they say."

Kermit said, "That's going to throw a kink into rehearsals."

Scooter said, "Maybe not," and tapped Janken on the shoulder. The Fraggle looked back. "Jan, think you could play the jug well enough to get them through a rehearsal or two if Bubba doesn't make it in time?"

Surprised, Janken replied, "Me? I guess so. Do you have a copy of the piece so I can learn it?"

"Yeah. I'll get that for you when we're done here. The Jughuggers are on the other side. Go talk to 'em and I'll take over here."

"Sure." Janken got out of the camera operator's seat.

Scooter patted the Fraggle's shoulder as he passed, then sat down. Kermit remarked, "I didn't know he played the jug."

Scooter replied, "He doesn't. But he picks up on musical stuff faster than you'd believe. He says it's a Fraggle thing. What's next, chief?"

* * *

><p>Janken crossed the stage. It was pretty easy to tell who the jug band members were. They were the ones behind big bushy beards, except for the woman. He said, "Hi, I'm Janken. I'll play the jug 'til Bubba shows up, if that's all right."<p>

A lanky man with blond hair pulled back into a ponytail said, "Sure, that's fine with us. Y'ever played the jug before, young feller?"

"Not yet. But I play the sweet potato and a few other things, and I learn fast. Could I give it a try?"

"Why not? Pass him the jug, Gramps. The empty one." They laughed, and a white-bearded old man swung a jug over to Janken. Janken sat down and, holding the jug in his lap, blew across the top a few times until it made the right sound.

Gramps remarked approvingly, "It does my heart a world o' good to see the youth o' today takin' up fine music."

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Billie are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken and Billie are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2: I Just Called to Say

**Growing Together  
>Part 2: I Just Called to Say...<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was later the same day, and the Muppets had done all they could do to rehearse, prepare props, and otherwise get ready for the upcoming show, and were ready to finish up and leave. As sometimes happened, they had been there so long that they were hungry <em>now.<em> Gladys, who ran the canteen, knew them well enough to anticipate this and open up.

Kermit sat down with a sandwich. He would have liked some flies with it, but it'd be a week or so before the population built up enough for him to begin culling it. A moment later Miss Piggy put down a plate with a burger, fries, and a soda, and sat opposite him. Kermit had expected that; she always sat with him unless she was miffed. She took several bites of her burger, then, the edge taken off her hunger, she told him, "I've been picking my costume for my song with Mr. Yankovitch."

"What'd you settle on?" he asked, then took a bite of his sandwich.

_"Moi_ is not sure. I have so many lovely things. I want to be stunning, but not _too_ stunning. One mustn't overshadow one's partner, after all."

"How about the red strapless dress?"

That dress was a knockout, all right. But the last time she had worn it onstage, a seam in the front had popped. Only because she had just happened to be holding Kermit in her arms at that moment had she escaped extreme indignity. Wardrobe had repaired it with stronger thread, but still... "I don't trust that one," she said with a hint of regret.

"Oh, yeah. Have you read the lyrics?"

"Not yet. Scooter told me all about it. A man sings about the woman who broke his heart, and how he cannot bear to live without her. _Trés, trés romantique."_

"Ah, Piggy, the song isn't quite what you think it is. He's called 'Weird Al' for a reason."

Piggy smiled sweetly. "Why, Kermit, are you _jealous?_ Don't worry, no matter what happens onstage, _you_ are the only man for me. I will give it my all—as I always do—but it will only be an act." She kissed his cheek, then wiped a dab of ketchup off with her napkin.

"I believe you," Kermit replied with a faint grin.

"Not that anyone could truly believe that there was anything between me and Mr. Yanka-something. You and I are, after all, inseparable." She gazed into his eyes. Transfixed, he looked back. He knew better than to glance away.

Fozzie sat at the table next to them and asked, "Hey, Kermit, did you get a phone call the other day asking things about you?"

_Thank you, Fozzie._ "No, why?"

"I did," he said. "Where was I born, where I worked before I met you, things like that. I thought maybe she was calling all us Muppets."

Worried, Kermit asked, "Did she ask for your social security or credit card numbers? Mother's maiden name?"

"No, nothing like that. In fact, she knew all the answers already. She said she was just checking to make sure she had it right."

"That's kind of weird," Kermit said. "But if you didn't tell her anything new, I guess it's all right."

"So, you didn't get called?"

"Nope. You, Piggy?"

_"Moi_ does interviews in person. How else are they to take pictures?"

Camilla and Gonzo claimed another table. Each had a sandwich. Lacking hands, Camilla couldn't pick hers up, but she could peck at the ingredients. Billie had a fruit salad, and as soon as she was seated in Gonzo's lap she began eating pineapple and pear chunks.

Gonzo picked up his sandwich. It said, "Hi. Remember me?"

Startled, Gonzo said, "Brian?"

"Who else possess your sandwiches? Say, you sound funny. You have a cold?"

"No. I just bronzed my nose."

The sandwich had no face, but it still projected bewilderment. "You...bronzed your _nose?"_

"Yeah. It's part of my new act."

Billie, wide-eyed, said "Sannich _talk!"_

"Hey, is that Billie?" The sandwich asked.

"Me!" The chick declared.

Gonzo said, "It's been a few years. What's going on, Brian?"

"The ship's back in range, so I thought I'd say hi. And I have some news for you. It's kind of personal, though. Is now a good time?"

Gonzo glanced around the cafeteria. All of the other Muppets were staring curiously at him and his sandwich. He answered, "Maybe not right now."

"No problem. We'll be in the solar system for a while. How about lunch tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that's good."

"Oh, and don't worry. It's not bad news. Matter of fact, it's pretty good. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Gonzo waited a moment. When the sandwich didn't speak again, he began eating it. Billie watched for a minute longer, then, deciding the show was over, went back to her fruit salad.

* * *

><p>A half hour later the canteen was still open, and the atmosphere had gotten raucous. Scooter said to Janken, "I'm gonna go. I want to get back to the house while it's still quiet."<p>

Janken nodded. They carried their plates back. Then they walked through the backstage area to the back exit. Both of their bicycles were by the door. Scooter had planned to leave early rather than ride back home in the Electric Mayhem's bus with the other Muppets. He had final exams next week—the last exams before graduation—and, with the show taking up most of his time, he had to snatch study time when he could get it.

They wheeled their bikes out to the alley. Janken said, "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Scooter replied.

They kissed, then got on their bikes and pedaled down the alley. When they got to the street they rode off in opposite directions.

* * *

><p>The house was silent when Scooter arrived. He went back to his room. It was small and cluttered, which suited him just fine. He kept things more or less in line at the theater, but at home he could relax.<p>

He sat on his bed—the one place he could sit; the rooms in the boarding house were small—and took out one of his textbooks. Inwardly he sighed as he started reading. He didn't regret going to college. He had wanted to get a degree, mostly because he felt the need to go out and do something on his own rather than coasting along forever in the job that his uncle had gotten for him years ago. But he'd been a student for four years now, during the last two of which he had also been stage managing the Muppet Show, and he was ready for his college career to be over with!

His cell phone rang. Had he left something at the theater? He hoped he wouldn't have to go back tonight. But he didn't recognize the name and number on the phone's screen. He pressed a button and said, "Hello."

A pleasant voice said, "Hello. This is Yvonne René. Am I speaking to Scooter Grosse?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I'd like to verify some information, if you don't mind. This will only take a few minutes."

Scooter had overheard Fozzie telling Kermit about the phone call he had received. Warily he asked, "What is this for?"

"I'm fact checking an article before publication. I simply want to make sure we have your biographical information straight. You don't have to tell me anything more, but feel free to correct me if you wish."

Scooter turned the page in a spiral bound notebook and propped it up on his legs. He wrote the phone number and name on a sheet of paper, then, pen ready, said, "Okay, shoot."

"You were hired at the Muppet Theater at age fourteen with the help of your late uncle, J.P. Morgan. You initially were a go-fer, but became a stage manager after several years."

"Yeah, that's right," Scooter replied.

"You are currently studying theater arts at the University of Lower East Side, and plan to graduate after this semester?"

"Yep."

"Thank you. I just wanted to verify those facts. I appreciate your time."

"That's all? Huh," he said, surprised. "I thought everybody knew how I got my job."

"Yes, but much of what we know about the Muppets comes from the original Muppet Show. We don't want to print anything that we aren't certain is true. The legal department wouldn't be too happy about that."

"Yeah. So when's this coming out?"

"It'll be on magazine stands in a few days. I'd be pleased to send some copies for all of the Muppets."

"Sure, that'd be fine."

"Shall I send them to 1146 Biltmore Drive?"

That was the boarding house's address. Not that that was a secret—anyone could look it up online—but it still surprised him that she had not suggested the theater instead. Still, he thought, six of one, half a dozen of the other. "That's fine."

"Thank you. If you want to contact me, my name is Yvonne René, and my phone number is 555-0199."

That matched what he had already written. "Okay. 'Bye."

"Goodbye."

He closed his phone and put it back in his jacket pocket. So the mysterious caller was just checking facts for a magazine article. Odd that they'd want to know about him, as he wasn't one of the big stars. But they hadn't asked about anything personal. He'd tell Kermit and Fozzie that it wasn't anything to worry about.

He looked at the open textbook on his bed for a moment. Then he sighed, "Oh, yeah," and picked it up again.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Billie are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken and Billie are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3: Weird and Weirder

**Growing Together  
>Part 3: Weird and Weirder<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was a normal, sunny, mild day, bereft of darkness or storminess. It was also the day before Friday, which is to say Thursday, thus they had one more day to rehearse before the weekend shows. Lew Zealand were doing just that onstage, which is a good place for a rehearsal.<p>

Scooter and Kermit were watching from the desk backstage right. Zealand was throwing his boomerang fish, but only some of them were coming back. That was to be expected, according to Zealand; they were trainees. Kermit wondered if he ought to worry because that actually made sense, and decided not to bother; it was much too late for that.

Zealand finished up his fish-pitching and left the stage, discussing matters with his kippers. Scooter and Kermit watched him go by, carrying on his monologue. Then they looked at each other and shrugged. Weirdness was a relative thing. Many of them had once considered Gonzo weird because of his affection for chickens, but at least you could talk with a chicken. Well, _he_ could.

Scooter asked, "What do you think, boss?"

"Maybe he can slap those fish into shape," Kermit replied. "Even if he can't, it's good for a laugh."

"Gotcha." Scooter made a note on his clipboard.

Now the jug band was setting up onstage. They were still missing the jug player. Scooter tapped the intercom on Kermit's desk. "Jan, you're on."

Janken replied, "Okay."

Kermit watched, surprised, as Janken came onstage and sat behind the jug. The fiddle player played a brief introduction, and then they began twanging, scratching, and blowing a tune that Kermit recognized as _John Peel._

Kermit asked Scooter, "How're we looking for acts?"

"We have enough ready to go for the first show. In fact, we're probably going to have to cut some for time."

"Ah, you can cut mine," Fozzie said.

Kermit turned to him. "You don't want to do a comedy spot?"

Nervously Fozzie said, "Ah...well, we're going to have _Weird Al Yankovic_ on the show, and he's so funny! How could I even be in the same show as him?"

Kermit replied, "The same way you did with Milton Berle. Just join in."

"Gee, I don't know." Fozzie looked away.

Scooter said, "Fozzie, you're _very_ funny! I bet you and Weird Al would be great together."

"Aw, you're just saying that," the bear murmured.

"No, I mean it!" He said to Kermit, "Don't you think so?"

"Sure," the frog replied with a smile.

Fozzie, twiddling his scarflike tie, looked up again and said, "Aw... thanks for saying that."

Scooter heard a tapping at the back door and went down the stairs, leaving Kermit to the task of reassuring Fozzie. He opened the door and saw a tall man sporting long, frizzy hair, a colorful Hawaiian shirt, and a grin. Scooter chirped, "Hi, come on in!"

Weird Al Yankovic came into the theater. "I wasn't sure I was in the right place."

"Why, didn't they give you directions?"

"Down the alley between the bank and the apartments, right at the dumpster, and it's the door after the three trash cans. There were only two, but I took a chance."

As he led Al up the stairs he said, "Oh, Beau must have told you how to get here. Sorry 'bout that. Anyhow, welcome to the Muppet Theater. We're all excited that you're finally going to be in our show! We were able to work in a lot of the ideas we talked about on the phone."

"Oh, great," Al said.

"Let me go find you a copy of the script. In the meantime-" He tapped on Fozzie's shoulder. He had been talking to Kermit and had not noticed that the guest star had arrived. He glanced over, then up. Scooter continued, "Fozzie, wouldja show Al around? Thanks." He went around the back to cross over to backstage left.

Fozzie stared, then stammered, "Ma-ha-ha..." He looked at Kermit for help.

Kermit patted his back and said, "Thanks, Fozzie," then walked off.

Fozzie looked back at Al and stammered for a few more moments, then got hold of himself. "I will show you around the theater!" he declared. "Um, over there's the stage," he said, pointing. Then he went to a door on the other side of the exit. "The canteen's down here. Um. They make good sandwiches. Ah, and up here's the dressing rooms," he finished, starting up the stairs.

Amused, Al followed him. Fozzie led him to a door and held it open for him. Al went in, saying, "I can't believe I'm here."

"I can't believe you're here too. And now that you're here. I don't know what to say," Fozzie admitted. "You're so _funny!"_

"Thanks, Fozzie. So are you," Al replied.

Fozzie did a double take. "You mean that?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah! No matter what, you're always out there telling jokes. Y'know what, it's easy being a comedian when everyone already thinks you're funny, but it takes nerve to stick with it when they don't."

"I, uh, I...thanks!" Fozzie stammered.

"So, are we going to do an act together?"

"I-I don't know. I haven't seen the script yet," Fozzie said. Suddenly he regretted telling Kermit to cut his act.

Scooter rapped on the door. It was already open, but he did that to announce his presence. "Weird Al, here's your script," he said, offering some paper stapled at the corner.

"Thanks," Al said as he accepted it.

Scooter hustled back down the stairs and told Kermit, "Fozzie's over it."

"Oh, good."

Onstage, the jug band was singing about various members of the animal kingdom. Kermit told Scooter, "Those aren't the lyrics I used to hear back in the swamp."

"Really? What were they like?"

Kermit couldn't tell if Scooter meant it or was playing innocent. Probably the former, he thought; city kids don't grow up with folk songs. "I don't exactly remember."

"Oh."

They both watched the rest of the rehearsal. Janken fit right in. As Scooter had expected, he had picked up how to play the jug immediately, once he had worked out the proper embouchure—which was a little tricky because of his snout, but he solved the problem by tilting his head far back to compensate.

The song finished, and Janken hopped up and went back to the camera console. Scooter tapped the intercom and said, "Nice work, Jan."

Janken replied, "Thanks. The Jughuggers said I'm 'perty good fer a greenhorn.' What's a greenhorn?"

"A newbie. Wanna be the understudy?"

Janken laughed. "Yeah, _right."_

Scooter made a note by that act on his clipboard.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4: Bright Ideas

**Growing Together  
>Part 4: Bright Ideas<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>Weird Al heard a knock at the dressing room door, and called, "Come in."<p>

Miss Piggy, dressed in cornflower satin, swept in. When she caught sight of Al she said, "Oh, excuse me, _moi_ was looking for Monsieur Yankovic."

"That's me," he replied with a grin.

She looked the man up and down. The man was tall and well-built, but he hid it behind a loud Hawaiian shirt and the frizziest mop of hair this side of Carrot Top. Then she smiled winningly and said, "I came to talk with you about our song."

"Yes! Thank you for doing _One More Minute_ with me," he said.

_"Moi_ couldn't help noticing that _moi_ doesn't have any lines," she mentioned casually.

"I was hoping you'd be the girl I was singing about," he explained.

"Ah, the heartbreaker you cannot bear to live without."

"With or without," he answered with a grin. "And you can do whatever you want with it. Have fun. Surprise me."

"Oh, I will. It will be divine," she replied.

"Just please pull your punches, that's all I ask."

She stopped in mid-pose and looked at him oddly. Then she laughed and said, "Never fear. I will be gentle with _vous."_

"That's great. Oh, and one other thing. Could I have your autograph? For my daughter, Nina."

_Daughter?_ She paused, then replied brightly, "Of course, I'll give you an autographed glossy for the little dear. And the others can even sign the back. They're always happy to give autographs when people ask."

* * *

><p>Miss Piggy sailed off to her dressing room. So maybe Al wasn't exactly the hunk she had imagined, but he was sweet in his own way. And he had the good taste to ask her to play the song's femme fatale. She would do the song justice, of course.<p>

Weird Al came out of his dressing room. Gonzo was hanging around backstage. He glanced over, and his eyes went wide. "I can't believe it!"

Weird Al smiled as Gonzo rushed up the stairs. "Believe it. I'm me," he said.

Gonzo stared at his tropical shirt, then exclaimed, "Who's your _tailor?"_

* * *

><p>The Muppets were getting seriously down to the task of rehearsing the parts of the show that couldn't be ad-libbed safely. Onstage, Rowlf, Clifford, and Pepe were practicing doo-wop movements. Pepe was attempting choreography, demonstrating different arm movements. It was an interesting task for Rowlf and Clifford, who were never sure which pair of arms to look at. Things went smoother after Pepe decided to swing both sets of arms in synchrony, which, Pepe decided, looked slicker anyway.<p>

Janken and Scooter were idly watching the act on his monitor. Janken always watched the rehearsals so he would see what was, in theory, going to happen and be able to capture it with the cameras. This was going to be an easy one, no fast movement or unusual angles. Just keep the center camera on Al and Piggy, plus one or two on the sides for a variety of views, and keep another on the doo-wop group for cutaways.

"He's doing a pretty good job," Scooter, looking over Janken's shoulder, remarked.

"Pepe?"

"Yeah. He wanted to lead the doo-wop backup, and nobody else objected, so he got the job. I've never seen him choreograph anything before, but he's doing all right."

"Everyone has hidden talents."

"Anyway, that's a relief. I was worried I'd have to straighten that out."

Janken looked over. Scooter normally just did whatever it took to keep the ball rolling and didn't worry about it. "You're tense today."

Scooter admitted, "Yeah. I really want this show to shine, and the finals... either one I can cope with, no problem, but both at the same time, whew."

Janken got out of his seat and said. "Sit down." Scooter did. "Undo your jacket."

Scooter popped the snaps, asking "What for?"

"This," Janken said, and pushed the jacket down so he could begin massaging Scooter's shoulders through his shirt. "Wow, I can feel how tense you are."

"Um. Yeah," Scooter said. Janken was kneading his shoulder muscles, and it felt so nice he didn't want to talk. Which was the idea.

Janken kept at it until he felt the tension ebb away, and then for a minute longer. Resting his hands on Scooter's shoulders, he said, "Better?"

"Yeah. That felt great." Scooter had slouched over. He didn't feel a need to straighten up just yet.

"Good."

"Just a few more days. After finals, I'm going to celebrate!"

"How?"

"I don't know. I've forgotten what having free time is like. But I'll think of _something."_

"'Kay. If there's any way I can help you, say so, all right?"

"I promise."

"Good." Janken gave his shoulders a final squeeze.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Weird Al and Gonzo were chatting and watching the doo-wop practice on the other side. They weren't imitating the video, Al was pleased to see. The Muppets were known for merry chaos, and he was looking forward to whatever they chose to throw at him. The business they were working on now, he had no idea what part of the song it went with. He wouldn't see it onstage either, as his back would be to them unless they really planned to mix up the blocking. He looked forward to finding out what they were up to when he saw it onscreen. He said to Gonzo, "I saw in the script that you're going to bronze your nose."<p>

"Yep," Gonzo said happily. "I've been trying to get Kermit to let me do that for a year."

"What did it take to finally convince him?"

"I had to show him I could actually _do_ it. That's what took so long."

"How'll you get the bronze off your nose aftewards?"

"Grease it with butter and it pops right off. The butter's not a bad moisturizer, too. You wouldn't believe how bronzing dries out your skin." Al was trying to work out a reply to that when Gonzo glanced at the clock on Kermit's desk and said, "Oop, gotta go. I've got a lunch meeting. Have you been down to the canteen?"

"Not yet."

"They make twinkie weiner sandwiches. I found the recipe and gave it to Gladys. Those things are _great!_ Wanna get one?"

"Thanks, but I'm gonna hang around back here for a while."

"Okay. See ya," Gonzo said, and went down to the canteen. It was empty, and Gladys was asleep sitting up behind the counter. Gonzo said, "Hey, can I get some sandwiches?"

She startled awake. Seeing Gonzo, she said, "Finally! I was beginning to think the door was nailed shut. What'll ya have?"

"One peanut butter and gherkin sandwich and, um, one cheese sandwich."

"Yeah, comin' up,"

She assembled the sandwiches, and was about slap the cheese sandwich on the grill when Gonzo said, "Wait! Don't grill it, I want it just like it is."

Holding the sandwich in one hand, she turned back and said, "You want a _raw_ cheese sandwich?"

"Yeah."

"Weirdo." She plunked it on a plate, then put it and the other sandwich in front of Gonzo. He paid her—she remarked, "Hooray, now I can pay the rent,"—and took both plates.

Weird Al was talking with the Electric Mayhem when Gonzo went up the stairs to his dressing room. He locked the door behind himself, then put the sandwiches down. Before long one twitched, and he heard a muffled "Uh, Gonzo?"

"I'm here. Could you switch to the other sandwich? It's gonna be hard to talk through peanut butter."

"Okay." There was silence for a moment, then the cheese sandwich said, "Am I in the right place now?"

"Sure," Gonzo said. "What's up?"

"The science guys have been researching how closely related we are to Earth life using the gene samples we got while we were there. The ones from the feather clippings we got from you, Camilla, and Billie. You know how genes work?"

"Er, more or less," Gonzo replied.

"Let me back up a little then. Genes are instructions for building something that's alive. The geneticists had a field day with those samples, let me tell you. Figured out mutation rates and divergence and a lot of other stuff I can't explain because I don't understand it that well myself. They also sequenced the genes and made simulated versions of you three."

"What's that mean?" Gonzo asked uneasily. "They _cloned_ us?"

"No, no, they used the data from the genes and ran it through a program to see what'd happen. A data model, not the real thing. We do it all the time to find out if babies are going to grow up to have health problems so they can deal with 'em ahead of time. Billie's fine, by the way."

Gonzo smiled and said, "I could've told you that."

"Yeah. Anyway, the science squad loves to solve puzzles, and they spent about a year figuring out your genes. That's their kind of fun. Long story short, they worked out your how compatible your genes are with Camilla's. They say it's a real long shot, like putting together a jigsaw puzzle with no picture. You two really got lucky with Billie."

"No kidding."

"It doesn't help that Camilla's body temperature is higher than yours. It narrows the window of opportunity, if you catch my drift. But they've figured out which genes work. In other words, they can put the puzzle together again."

"Okay, so?" Brian had to be leading up to something.

"So, if they had fresh gene samples they could work their magic and create another one for you, if you two wanted. They would match the genes together, then grow it in an incubator so it'd be ready to hatch the next time we came back here. They'd love to do it; it's their kind of fun."

"You mean, _clone_ us?"

"No, no! A clone is a _copy_ of someone. We don't do that. I can't see your face, Gonzo, but it sounds like you're grossed out. I know this sounds weird to you, but it's really not. We do it all the time. Heck, _my_ parents were gene samples. And, well, considering how long a shot Billie was, maybe it's worth considering?"

"Um... yeah, we'll think about it," Gonzo said. He imagined Camilla's reaction: an indignant squawk. But then, maybe not. If it was the only way...

"No pressure," Brian said. "If you don't want to, that's fine. We'll be in the area for a while, and it'll be a few days before the ship's close enough to Earth anyway. You can let me know what you decide then, okay?"

"Sure. Um... thanks."

"In any case, since we'll be in the neighborhood I'd like to come down there again. Mind if I stop by?"

"Sure, that'd be cool."

"Thanks. Signing off now. Later."

The cheese sandwich fell silent. Gonzo realized he had been neglecting his peanut butter and gherkin sandwich and absently took a bite while wondering what Camilla would think about this, and for that matter what _he_ thought of it.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken, Brian, and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection Janken and Brian are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5: Reluctant Musicians

**Growing Together  
>Part 5: Reluctant Musicians<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>The lights dimmed, and the audience chatter died down. The Muppet Show logo was lowered in front of the curtains. Kermit, standing on a platform on its back, opened the door in the O. Bright stage lights shining in his face, he announced, "It's the Muppet Show! With our very special guest star, Weird Al Yankovic!" He cheered and waved his arms. The orchestra started playing a familiar tune, and the logo rose again into the flyspace. While the Muppets sang and danced the opening theme, Kermit hopped onto the catwalk, hurried down a ladder on the side, and popped into his place in the center of the arches for the ending of the song. When the logo lowered again, Gonzo was standing on the platform, holding his trumpet. Kermit could only see his back as he raised the instrument. What came out was an incongruous quacking sound. Ducks swarmed him from all directions.<p>

The red curtains swung closed, and Kermit hopped out in front of them. "Welcome to The Muppet Show! Tonight we have a real treat for you. Our guest star is Weird Al Yankovic! He-" Kermit glanced around the stage as if searching for someone. "Weird Al?"

A frizzy-haired head peered out from the right wings. Al looked at the audience, then at Kermit, then at the audience again. He smiled weakly and waved, then walked onstage with an exaggerated show of resignation.

Kermit did not seem to notice his guest star's reluctance. He said, "Al, we've been wanting to have you on the show ever since we first heard of you. This is a dream come true."

Hands behind his back, Al deadpanned, "I've had dreams like this too."

Kermit told the audience, "In fact, Al has agreed to write a special song just for us. So, ladies and gentlemen, Weird Al Yankovic!" Kermit gave another arm-waving cheer, then cleared the stage.

A microphone stand rose from the orchestra pit. Weird Al caught it without looking down. In the pit, Rowlf played the piano riff that opened _I Will Survive_. Floyd struck a chord on his guitar, and the lights dimmed, leaving Al in the center of a spotlight. He drew in a breath, then began to sing melodramatically,

"At first I was aghast, I was mortified,  
>When Kermit and the Muppets made me swallow my pride.<br>They made it clear that unless I wrote them some lame parody  
>There wouldn't be<br>A place on the show for me.

The music picked up speed and the stage lights brightened. Weird Al sang more energetically,

"I tried to make... them understand,  
>I am an artist, you can't make me crank this stuff out on demand!<br>I am not your monkey boy and you are not the boss of me.  
>But if I have to stroke your egos<br>For some cheap publicity-

I'll write this song... under duress.  
>Just goes to show ya... extortion really works, I guess.<br>You think I'd blow them off and kiss this spot goodbye?  
>Did you think I'd say no... 'cause I'm such a principled guy?<p>

Oh no, not I!  
>I will comply,<br>Although frankly, I would rather jam a needle in my eye.  
>Can't believe I'd sink this low<br>To get on this silly show.  
>Yeah, I'll comply.<br>I will comply!  
>Oy vey!"<p>

When the music ended Weird Al bowed exaggeratedly to the audience, and kept bowing until the curtains opened behind him, revealing a tank full of ominously bubbling liquid, a machine with lots of blinking lights and a big flip switch, and a trio of hens in spangled costumes. Then Al turned around, did a double take when he saw the set for the next act, and scampered offstage.

Kermit met him in the wings. "That was great, Weird Al!" The other Muppets who had been watching rhubarbed their agreement.

Grinning widely, he said, "Thanks! And, please, just call me Weird."

"Hey, that's _my_ nickname!" Gonzo, on his way to the stage, exclaimed.

"Whatever, weirdo," Sam the Eagle muttered.

"That too!"

* * *

><p>Gonzo, wearing a suit of shiny green plastic and a set of protective goggles, ran onstage and said, "Greetings, fans of daredeviltry! Prepare to be amazed and <em>at the same time<em> educated! Today I, The Great Gonzo, will immortalize myself by bronzing _my own nose_ while reciting the Gettysburg Address!" He turned toward the chickens. "Ladies! The leads!"

Two of the hens, each with a cable that ended in an alligator clip in her beak, fluttered over to him. They set the leads in his hands. Gonzo attached one to a small, shiny bar. "The bronze rod!" He dropped it into the liquid. "The tub of metal salts!" He clipped the other lead to one of his fingers. "And finally, ladies, the _current!"_ All of the chickens pulled on the lever. When it didn't swing immediately one of them flew up onto the end and landed hard. It flipped down, sending the chickens tumbling across the stage, squawking and dropping feathers.

When the current hit Gonzo he jerked, then cackled and plunged his nose into the tank. The liquid didn't harm him; his nose was coated with transparent conductive material to enable the metal to adhere. "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal—"

Al and numerous Muppets watched from the wings. Gonzo's stunts were entertaining whether they succeeded or failed. Scooter had his cell phone in his hand, ready to press the final 1 in 911. Even Sam the Eagle was watching, one hand on his heart and a tear in his eye.

"—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." Gonzo stood up, lifting his nose out of the tank to reveal its shiny, coppery coating. "Ta-_daaaah!_ Thank you!"

The curtains closed. A group of rats went out in front of them to perform a dramatic reenactment of the judgment of Solomon, with a wedge of cheese as the object of the dispute. Meanwhile, behind the curtains, the tank and machine were rushed off and straw bales and a fence were set in their place. Gonzo barreled past the others and into the canteen crying, "Quick, Gladys! Butter! Melted butter! Lots of it!"

"No can do," Gladys replied.

"I'm serious! I need it now!"

She looked at him. "Anyone else, I would ask what for. Sorry, I'm all out of butter."

Gonzo said, "How can a canteen be out of _butter?"_

"Today's breakfast special was poached eggs with hollandaise sauce. It was more popular than I expected."

"Wow, what're the odds?" Gonzo said to himself.

* * *

><p>Scooter glanced over his shoulder. The jug band was ready. Almost. "Bubba's still not here?" he asked.<p>

"Nope. He musta hitchhiked down the wrong side of the highway again," Slim, the guitar player, replied.

"Okay. Take your places," he told them. He picked up a vest and hat he'd dug out of Costuming just in case and crossed behind the curtains to backstage left. "Jan, you're on."

"Huh?" Janken glanced over questioningly.

"Bubba's a no-show. You're up."

Janken's eyes widened. "Me?" he squeaked.

"Yes, you. Who else has been playing the jug all week? Here." He held the hat and vest out.

"But I don't—I work the _cameras!"_ Janken said.

Scooter glanced over his shoulder at the stage. The cheese had been sliced in two, so the act was nearly finished. Janken had made no move to get up from the console. Scooter exclaimed, "You're the understudy, remember?"

"But that was just for the rehearsals! Who's going to work the cameras?"

_"I_ am! Come on, I don't have time for this! _**Go!**__"_

Shocked, Janken got up and took off his jacket. Then he dashed to the stage, trying to thread an arm through the vest without dropping the straw hat.

Scooter sat down. On the monitors he saw Janken sit down on a hay bale and pick up the jug, then turn it in his hands so he could thread a thumb through the handle. His tail was twitching, and the fur on the end was puffed out like a dandelion. Scooter caught a glimpse of his terrified expression before he pulled the hat down low enough for the brim to cover his eyes and half his face.

* * *

><p>Janken heard the curtain rise and felt the added heat of the stage lights on his bare legs. He knew how futile it was to try not to think about the people in the audience. At least he could avoid looking at them.<p>

Zeke played an introduction on his banjo, and everyone joined in on guitar, fiddle, jaw-harp, and guitar. Those whose mouths were not occupied by an instrument began singing.

"Cats on the rooftops, cats on the tiles,  
>Cats in the gutters, cats in the aisles,<br>Cats all yowlin' 'round for miles,  
>But the hedgehog can never be bothered at all!"<p>

Janken was thankful for the song they were playing. He was a Fraggle; music came naturally to him. No matter how bad you felt, you knew where you were with a song. It was a peculiar one, describing the odd habits of various animals and how fortunate the hedgehog was not to be inconvenienced by them. The audience laughed, but not at parts of the song that were funny. In fact, they laughed at his brief jug solo during the bridge. It couldn't have been that funny! The laughter made him even more nervous.

After several subjective hours the song ended, the curtains closed, and the heat from the stage lights faded. Janken took off the hat—they were already rushing scenery off to prepare for the next act—and escaped to safety backstage left.

When Janken, slipping out of the vest, approached, Scooter got out of the seat. Janken went past without speaking or even looking at him, sat down, and put his denim jacket on again.

Scooter wanted to say something to him. But the Fraggle was hunched over the console as if hoarding or protecting it, the end of his tail bottle-brushed and whipping back and forth. He was really upset. Scooter felt bad now—but else _could_ he have done?

Unable to find anything to say, Scooter turned and went back to the crossover to backstage right. The show must go on.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. <em>I Will Comply<em> is copyright © Weird Al Yankovic, and Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.


	6. Chapter 6: Method Acting

**Growing Together  
>Part 6: Method Acting<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>The curtain went up on the second half of the Muppet Show, revealing the set for the first act: a Pigs in Space skit. The announcer intoned: "Pigs in Spaaaace! Featuring the osmotic Captain Link Hogthrob, the recidivistic First Mate Miss Piggy, and the inimical Doctor Julius Strangepork. When last we left them, our stalwart crew were facing their very first First Contact."<p>

"Well, here we are, facing our very first First Contact," Link stated importantly.

Piggy declared, "What a historic moment! Our names will be immortalized for all time!"

Link turned to the side and asked, "Er, Dr. Strangepork, how _does_ one go about making a first contact?"

"Let me see." Strangepork picked up a worn paperback and began thumbing through it.

"What's that?" Piggy asked, leaning forward to look past Link.

Strangepork held up the paperback and answered, _"Trek Wars."_

Enthusiastically Link said, "I used to watch that all the time! Do you mean there are _books _too?"

"Oh, hundreds of them! I have them all."

Link lowered his voice. "Even the one with the planet full of, ah, pastel-colored women?"

"Which one?"

As her two crewmates exchanged schoolboy snickers Piggy said, "Knock it off! We're meeting a hitherto unknown form of life, and you're reading space operas?"

Strangepork replied, "Why not? Nobody's ever done it before, so it won't be in the regulation book."

"And these are more fun to read too," Link added.

Sarcastically Piggy asked, "Oh really? Well, what does that book tell ya to do? Put on your dress uniforms and invite 'em over for tea?"

The viewscreen on the back wall lit up. A blurry image of an alien creature appeared on it. One had to assume it was a creature, as it was unlikely that a trash heap would broadcast itself. It said in a raspy, slightly muffled voice, "Actually, I could really go for some buttered toast. In fact, you can skip the toast. I sure could use some butter."

Piggy stared. Link raised one hand and began, "Greetings from the realm of Known Space. This is the starship Swinetrek, and I am Captain Link Hogthrob. We come in peace."

The alien presence replied, "Good to meet'cha. Do you have Earl Gray?"

Strangepork replied, "But of course. We _are _an advanced civilization, after all."

"Cool. I'll be right over. Don't forget the butter!"

Link turned to piggy and said, "First Mate, would you be a dear and get the tea?"

She snarled back, "How about you be a_live_ and get it yourself?"

Link cringed. "Yes, ma'am."

As link hurried out the exit the announcer said, "Tune in next week for Tea in Spaaaace!"

* * *

><p>Backstage, Gonzo pulled off the costume, which had been made from remnants of superannuated props, costumes, and general backstage debris. He was over on stage left, standing in a small set that had been cobbled quickly together so it could be projected onto the Pigs in Space viewscreen. It had been filmed by a cheap webcam, which was plugged into the camera console. Because of that the image quality was pretty low, but that was appropriate for the skit. It saved them the complication of superimposing static.<p>

Janken pressed a button and unplugged the webcam. He heard Gonzo go back to the backstage crossing. He did not look over. He had spent the intermission at the console, checking and rechecking the cameras instead of taking a break with the rest of the Muppets. Nobody had come over to say anything to him.

* * *

><p>When Gonzo arrived at backstage left Kermit asked, "Butter?"<p>

Gonzo said, "It's been on my mind."

"Oh."

"Wait! I have an idea," Gonzo exclaimed. He ran off toward the scenery department. Both Scooter and Kermit watched him go. They looked at each other for a beat. Then Scooter said, "We're doing good for time. We won't need to cut anything or vamp."

"Good. Say, I haven't seen Fozzie around for a while. Where is he?"

At that moment a dressing room door on the balcony opened. Weird Al, now wearing a dark suit, and Fozzie, wearing a fedora and polka-dotted tie, stepped out. Al was saying, "Then I said, I ordered two pounds of haddock, not halibut!"

Fozzie slapped the railing and said, "Aaaah! _Halibut!_ Sure you don't mean cod?"

Weird Al replied, "As cod is my witness, I didn't!"

Kermit grinned.

* * *

><p>Weird Al watched the acts he was not in from the wings, joking around with Fozzie and whoever else was nearby and generally enjoying himself. Shortly before the final act, Miss Piggy emerged from her dressing room. She glided down the steps—not the easiest task when wearing high heels—and asked, "Do you like it, <em>Monsieur<em> Al?"

She was wearing a blue satin dress that draped off one shoulder. The fabric fell in loose, light waves, making it look somewhat like a toga, but much more flattering. Her ringleted hair was pulled up into a tiara. Her gloves were of the same fabric and color as the dress. The entire ensemble was sweetened with rhinestones here and there, which would glitter in the stagelight. He said, "You look wonderful."

She preened. "Thank you, dear. I took the liberty of adding a pedestal to the set._ Très métaphorique."_ She posed, one arm in the air, like a Greek statue. "I shall be your muse."

Al nodded appreciatively. "Great. I can't wait to see what you do."

"I shall, of course, react to the song as if it's my first time hearing it," she answered. "I believe in method acting."

The curtains closed, and various Muppets rushed the next set onto the stage. This didn't take long, as it consisted of only the pedestal, a small platform upstage, and a dark backdrop. Al took his mark, as did Pepe, Rowlf, and Clifford. Miss Piggy walked over to the pedestal, looked up, and said "Someone got a ladder?"

"Here ya go," Sweetums said. He picked her up around the waist and set her down on top of the column.

"Watch the hands!" She snarled and swatted at him, but only hit long, shaggy hair.

Backstage left, Rizzo was holding a rat-sized clipboard. He said to the other Muppets on that side, "Last chance for bets!"

Floyd said, "Five on verse seven."

"Ya think? I'll give ya seven to one. Put ya down? All right."

"You're nuts," said a blue Whatnot. "Fourth verse."

"That's the favorite. I can only give ya two to one. Hey, Janken, wanna get in on this?" Rizzo said, looking over his shoulder. The Fraggle shook his head without looking away from the monitors. Rizzo shrugged. "Suit yerself."

Kermit took the stage and said, "We all know Weird Al Yankovic as the master of zany song parodies. However, he has another side. A side that sings touching love ballads like this." He gestured to the curtains, which pulled open. Weird Al was upstage, behind a microphone stand. Pepe, Clifford, and Rowlf, all wearing similar dark suits, were on the platform, and Piggy was posed on the pedestal, one hand raised, smiling sweetly at the audience.

As the music began and Pepe, Clifford, and Rowlf sang a wordless chord and began snapping their fingers, Weird Al took the microphone from the stand, which collapsed. He gazed longingly at Miss Piggy and sang,

"Well, I heard that you're leaving,  
>Gonna leave far behind.<br>'Cause you found a brand new lover,  
>You decided that I'm not your type."<p>

Miss Piggy favored him with a brief glance, then turned away in an attitude of haughty disdain.

"So I pulled your name out of my Rolodex,  
>And I tore all your pictures in two,<br>And I burned down the malt shop where we used to go  
>Just because it reminds me of you."<p>

The lighting took on a yellow, flickery tone for a moment before returning to normal.

"That's right, you ain't gonna see me crying,  
>I'm glad that you found somebody new.<br>'Cause I'd rather spend eternity eating shards of broken glass  
>Than spend one more minute with you.<p>

Surprised, Miss Piggy glanced at him, then returned to her original pose. Gazing up at Miss Piggy, Weird Al continued to sing,

"I know I may seem kinda bitter,  
>You got me feeling down in the dumps<br>'Cause I'm stranded all alone in the gas station of love  
>And I have to use the self-service pumps!"<p>

The audience laughed at Piggy's startled expression. Backstage, Rizzo held out his hand and made grabby motions with his fingers. The Whatnot put several dollars into it. Seemingly oblivious to Miss Piggy's glowering, Al sang with ever-increasing passion,

"Oh, so, honey,  
>Let me help you with that suitcase.<br>You ain't gonna break my heart in two.  
>'Cause I'd rather have a hundred thousand paper cuts on my face<br>Than spend one more minute with you.

I'd rather rip out my intestines with a fork  
>Than watch you going out with other men.<br>I'd rather slam my fingers in a door  
>Again and again and again and again and again."<p>

Pepe did not falter in his doo-wop routine, to his credit, though he did glance over at the left wings. He had bet some big ones on verse six.

"Oh can't you what I'm trying to say, darlin'-  
>I'd rather have my blood sucked out by leeches,<br>Or shove an icepick under a toenail or two.  
>I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue<br>Than spend one more minute with you."

Backstage right, Floyd let out a low whistle. "Man, Miss Hamhocks is really holdin' out."

Excitedly Rizzo said, "She's savin' it up, just watch. You don't give her enough credit!"

"She's got Visa, American Express, and Diner's Club International for that," Floyd said, and laughed.

Miss Piggy was doing a good impression of a diva barely holding herself back from whacking her co-star, and the audience loved it. With every face she made there was fresh laughter. Weird Al continued,

"I'd rather jump naked on huge pile of thumbtacks  
>Or stick my nostrils together with Krazy Glue,<br>I'd rather dive in a swimming pool filled with double-edged razor blades  
>Than spend one more minute with you.<p>

I'd rather rip my heart right out of my ribcage with my bare hands  
>And throw it on the floor and stomp on it till I die...<p>

He drew a deep breath, then gazed into Piggy's eyes and sang adoringly,

"Than spend one more minute with you."

Miss Piggy leaned forward, as if to kiss him, then whirled. "Hiii-YAAH!" Weird Al doubled over like a jackknife just as the curtains closed. As soon as they were shut Scooter rushed forward. "Are you okay, Al?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, wheezing slightly. "I'm glad she pulled _that _punch."

Miss Piggy said sweetly to Al, "Oh, dear. I may have misjudged a teeny bit. My balance was off because of this column. _Do _forgive me."

"No problem. I was expecting worse, actually." She had given him enough warning with her war cry to roll with the punch.

Sweetums ambled by, grabbed Miss Piggy by the waist, set her on the ground, and walked off with the pedestal before she recovered enough to belt him, this time without pulling the punch. Scooter said, "Kermit's started the farewell! You're on, Al!"

Kermit was saying, "Well, we have all survived to the end of another Muppet show—I think—so let's have a big round of applause for our guest star and all-around good sport who wouldn't think of suing us, Weird Al Yankovic!" Al walked around the curtain and out in front just as Kermit was cheering and waved to the audience. Kermit said, "Sorry about that chop at the end. No hard feelings? I hope?" he finished with a very worried look.

Al assured him, "Nah, not at all. In fact, I'm going to have Miss Piggy autograph my bruise."

Miss Piggy sauntered onto the stage and told him, "I'll be glad to. Where's my tattoo gun?" Then she put an arm around Kermit and said, "See, I told you not to worry, Kermie. You never had anything to fear from your competition." She shot Al a dark look. Al cringed appropriately.

The orchestra began to play the closing theme as the other Muppets who had been in the show crowded onstage to mug and goof around. Gonzo's nose was thicker than normal, and an odd shade of blue; he had painted over the bronze with some of the set paints. Only Rizzo remained offstage, delightedly counting his money. Only one person had bet that she would last until the end of the song without chopping him—and that was himself. He had given himself astronomical odds, and now he'd have a huge payoff! "Sometimes," he said gleefully to himself, "Showbiz really pays!"

* * *

><p>There was little cleanup to do after this show; somehow they had managed to string together a whole show's worth of acts that did no significant damage or left much debris. Janken had finished verifying that all the footage had been saved and was shutting down the camera console when he heard Scooter's sneakers.<p>

Scooter saw the Fraggle's tail curl under. That tail was better than a mood ring. He said, "About the jug band thing..."

Staring at the console, Janken answered, "About that... I'm sorry. I didn't take it seriously when you asked me to understudy. I thought you were joking. It won't happen again."

Scooter had been... not exactly prepared for, but anticipating an argument with Janken. He had not expected him to bow under without even arguing. Scooter said, "There wasn't any other way."

Janken met his eyes. "I know. And you don't need backtalk from me when you're trying to stage manage the show. I'm sorry. It was unprofessional. I won't flake out on you again."

"If Bubba doesn't show, will you go on again?"

"Yeah. I made a promise, even if I wasn't paying attention when I did. Only a dimp breaks his promises." He drew in a breath. "But I sure hope he shows up."

Janken looked like he needed some comforting. Scooter put his arm around Janken's shoulders and said, "Thanks. I didn't think it'd be so hard for you. Everyone else shoehorned themselves onto the stage first chance they got."

Janken smiled weakly. "Guess I'm not your typical Muppet. No hard feelings?"

"Nah." Scooter kissed Janken's cheek.

"Um... did I do all right?"

"Sure. You were fine. With the hat covering your face, nobody could tell you were nervous."

"Then what was so funny?"

Scooter grinned. "Your tail."

"My _tail?"_

"Yeah. A couple of times your tail went up behind you, and it was shaking. It looked like a rattlesnake wearing a wig was sneaking up on you."

Despite himself, Janken had to smile at that. "Wouldn't you know it. I'm funny when I'm scared. Let's go."

The two walked out to the back, where the other Muppets were piling into the Electric Mayhem's bus. As Janken mounted his bike Scooter patted him on the back and said, "See you tomorrow."

"See you," Janken said with a smile that was less strained, and pedaled away.

* * *

><p>Scooter entered the bus and took the seat in front of Kermit. He turned around and asked, "The cab come get Al?"<p>

"Yeah." The frog lowered his voice and said, "What was Rizzo doing on the other side of the stage?"

"Gee, chief, I didn't see," Scooter answered with an air of utter innocence.

Kermit might have pursued the matter, but at that moment Miss Piggy sat beside him and put her arm around him. Scooter turned back around. The bus rumbled and started forward. Kermit glanced up at Miss Piggy. She looked calm, but he could feel the tension in her arm. She had joked afterward about her song with Al, but he knew her well enough to guess that her reactions hadn't been rehearsed. But, well, she had hung on, and afterward treated it as a joke, so all would be well. He hoped.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. <em>One More Minute<em> is copyright © Weird Al Yankovic, and Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.


	7. Chapter 7: The Media

**Growing Together  
>Part 7: The Media<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was a quiet morning at the Muppet boarding house. Everyone was sleeping in. Almost everyone; Scooter had stuck in some earplugs and gone to bed as soon as he had gotten home rather than joining in the usual post-show revelry so he could get up early and have a few quiet hours to himself.<p>

He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Of the food at the front, milk and fruit was the most breakfasty. He didn't feel brave enough to explore further back. He took those to the table, then got some cereal. He assembled his breakfast and began eating with a textbook open in front of himself.

Minutes later he looked up, startled by the sound of a knock at the door. Nobody came here this early on the morning after a show. He went over and opened the door. It was a FedUps courier. She said, "I have a package for The Muppets, care of Scooter Grosse."

"That's me," he told her.

She pressed some buttons on a pad, then handed it and a stylus down to him. "Sign here, please."

He signed his name on the screen. Not that his signature was legible; those machines made any signature look like a tangle of wire. He handed it back up, and she gave him a box big enough to hold an unabridged hardback dictionary. "Have a good day."

"You too," Scooter said. He shouldered the door closed, and, wondering what this was about, carried the box over to the living room coffee table. He opened it, and found a note from Yvonne René thanking him for his time. Oh, now he remembered; she was the one who'd been calling to verify biographical information. Under the note was a bundle of magazines. The cover was a collage of photos of the Muppets. Press kit photos, he noted in the back of his mind. He took one out, brought it to the dining room table, and put it on top of the textbook to read while eating his cereal.

The table of contents was a list of the major players of the Muppet troupe, plus a section for less prominent players, and then the history of the troupe as a whole. He turned to Miss Piggy's page first. When it came to the press she was the miner's canary; if they treated her well, then they'd be decent to the Muppets as a whole. If they didn't there'd be fires to put out. He saw that she had eight pages with lots of photos, many of them from press kits, but some were stills and pictures from earlier sources. There were a pictures of her modeling career before she joined The Muppets, and some of her as a child. He went back to the first page and began reading.

The article was thorough and factual. Most articles about Piggy contained speculation, information that she had planted, et cetera, but this stuck to the facts for the most part, and was flattering without being gushy. When he got to the last page and read about her effect on the media, and how she had defined her own standard of beauty and success on her own terms, he smiled. She'd be pleased. She'd even tolerate the quote from Annie Sue Pig, who stated that Miss Piggy had been her inspiration.

He flipped pages, reading what it had to say about the various people he shared the house with. As he did he got the impression that it was essentially a very professional fanzine. He had two pages, with a straightforward bio, some photos**—**those shots of him playing frisbee really got around**—**and an account of his progress from management-inflicted gofer to stage manager and a mention of his current academic status. Nothing about his personal life, whew.

He flipped some more pages, looking at photos. He started to go past the Electric Mayhem when he realized what he had seen. He turned back and stared for half a minute in disbelief, his cereal forgotten. Then he grinned widely. Who'd have guessed?

* * *

><p>He was still reading the magazine when the place began to come to life. Alarm clocks began to chime, play music, buzz, and in one case gurgle. Scooter counted just short of half a minute before the chorus was drowned out by the rumbling stampede for the bathroom. Scooter took his cereal bowl back to the kitchen, then went upstairs. He passed Kermit, who was waiting in line to brush his teeth, and said, "Boss, there's a box on the living room table. Take a look."<p>

"What is it?" the frog asked.

Scooter showed him his copy. "I've been reading it. It looks pretty good. Should be worth some publicity."

"Oh, good. Can I read this?"

"Sure. There's more in the box downstairs. They're for all of us."

"Thanks," Kermit said, and opened the magazine.

"No problem. I'm going to be out. If you need me I've got my cell."

* * *

><p>Scooter went to his bedroom and picked up his backpack. He went back downstairs, collected the textbook he hadn't been reading, then put on the backpack. He wanted to take another of the magazines, but if he did he'd be reading that instead of studying, which was what he needed to be doing in the time before the show.<p>

* * *

><p>Scooter rode his bicycle to the theater, intending to commandeer Kermit's office for the afternoon. When he entered the theater some of the lights were on. A moment later he heard a thread of flute music. More curious than worried, he followed the sound, and saw that it came from the stage. Only a few of the footlights were on, giving it a dim, moody look. Janken was sitting on one of the hay bales from the jug band number and playing his ceramic ocarina. The tune was slow and reflective, a song that Scooter recognized. He sang softly, "How much alike we are; perhaps we're long lost brothers."<p>

Janken looked over, surprised. Hands in his jacket pockets, Scooter walked toward him. Janken played the next line, and after that Scooter sang, "We even think the same; you know there may be others."

Janken smiled, put down the ocarina, and sang, "Our world says, 'Welcome, stranger,' everybody's a friend."

Scooter harmonized, "We can always use a friend."

Janken continued, "Favorite stories don't end,"

Scooter sang, "Welcome, brother."

Together they sang the last line of the verse, "In our world."

Janken said, "That's a beautiful song. I heard it for the first time a few days ago, and I can't get it out of my mind."

"Yeah." Scooter sat beside him and set his backpack on the floor. "What're you doing here?"

"I wanted to try to get used to the stage. I thought that if I try it when the theater's empty, maybe it'll be a little less scary during the show."

"Baby steps."

"Yeah."

Scooter said, "Some people handle stage fright by imagining the audience is naked. Can't be intimidated by people without clothes."

Janken laughed. "Scooter, I'm a Fraggle. We're a clothing-optional species."

They grinned at each other. Scooter put an arm around Janken's shoulders. "You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah." Janken paused, then said, "Scooter, you've probably already figured this out about me, but I'm kind of a wimp."

"No, you're not."

"When it comes to making decisions, big ones, I am. If I hadn't been following someone around because I had a big crush on him, I'd never have left Fraggle Rock. If I hadn't been trapped on the surface by a rockslide I'd never have come to live in outer space. If I hadn't landed right in the hands on the TMI I wouldn't have gone to college, and if I hadn't met you in college I wouldn't be working here. You see, all my big decisions have been made for me; I'd never have taken those chances by myself."

"You had to decide to take those chances," Scooter pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but still, I was led every time. Either I had no choice or someone else showed me where to go."

"You've done all right."

"Yeah. I did because, well, what's the alternative?" He shook his head, smiling wryly. "I'm not saying this very well. I'm not beating myself up. I'm just a, well, a follower. That's fine, because if you have leaders you have to have followers, right? What I'm trying to say is, I can handle this. It's scary, but I can do it, because I can do things that scare me when I _have_ to. Don't worry about me, 'kay?"

"I believe you," Scooter said, patting Janken's shoulder.

"So what're you doing here?"

"I came here to study. The house isn't gonna be quiet today, but the theater will be. For the afternoon, at least."

Janken said, "I know you. You're going to get distracted here, with all this theater stuff around. Why don't you come home with me? It's quiet there. I'll leave you alone to study. I'll make lunch too."

Scooter said, "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Good. Let me put this hay back in place."

They got up, and Janken lugged the hay bale back to the other jug band props. As they left the theater Janken said,"I watched the footage from last night."

"Yeah. And?"

"I guess my tail was kind of funny. Should I do that again?"

Scooter grinned. "Yeah."

Janken's apartment was the basement of a family home. The family was a quiet one, and Janken was a quiet, undemanding tenant who paid the rent on time, so they got along well. Janken turned on the lights. "Grab a chunk of couch. Want tea?"

"How about some water?"

"Sure."

Janken got a glass of water while Scooter took off his shoes, claimed one side of the couch, and got one of the books out of his backpack. He brought the water over and handed it to Scooter. "Is there anything I can do to help, or should I just leave you alone?"

"Actually, there is something," Scooter said. He reached into the backpack and drew out a tablet. "I brought this along. For study breaks."

"Uh huh," Janken said with a grin.

"Don't smirk at me like that. I lurk on a few message boards to see what the fans are saying. Could you check them out for me, see if there's anything about last night's show?"

"Okay." Janken didn't have a lot of experience with message boards, but he did understand lurking. "Which boards?"

"Wait, let it come up... okay." Scooter opened a browser, then handed it to Janken. "They're in my 'fan sites' bookmarks. When you go to them you'll automatically be logged in as me."

It took Janken a few tries; he was not terribly experienced using touch screens. "I'm into the first one." He paused, then looked at Scooter. "Your username's _'Roughy'?"_

"It's a kind of fish. I wanted something I could remember but wouldn't be obvious."

Janken grinned. "I get it. Orange roughy. Okay, what should I look for?"

"There are some threads I watch. There'll be alerts on the upper right about those. If you see anything you think I ought to look at, bookmark it. After that, well, just look around. You might find some fun stuff. Just don't take anything too seriously, especially if it annoys you."

"Gotcha," Janken said.

* * *

><p>A few hours later Scooter put down the book he had been staring at and announced. "My brain's full."<p>

"How about your stomach?" Janken asked.

"Not full."

"How about a stir-fry? I just got an electric wok."

"Sounds good."

Pleased, Janken plugged in the device. The apartment did not have a kitchen, but it did have a small refrigerator, and Janken, being used to simple, often raw food, didn't miss having a stove or oven. However, he had been teaching himself to cook using a hot plate and, just recently, a wok. He took some vegetables out of the refrigerator and began cutting them up. Scooter said, "Read anything interesting?"

"Yeah. Some people saw last night's show. They liked it, and they said that it's about time Weird Al was on the show, but they thought his and Piggy's number was kinda slow for the final act. Not a lot of punch."

"So to speak."

"There was a lot of chitchat and arguing that I just skimmed. And some people said they wish they could see the backstage stuff like on TV."

Scooter nodded. "I know. That'd be fun, but we can't exactly put the backstage onstage."

"Some of them agree, and some want backstage sets to make that part of the show. I don't know**—**it sounds like a logistical nightmare."

"It would be," Scooter said.

"Oh, and there's a thread I thought you ought to see..." Janken oiled the wok, then put some of the vegetables into it and began stirring them with a pair of oversized chopsticks.

Janken was grinning. Scooter picked up the tablet and looked at the bookmarks. Janken saw the look of embarrassment on his face when he came to the thread's title. "You've got fans," the Fraggle teased.

"Shaddap and cook," Scooter replied, grinning.

"Yessir." He continued stirring. Then, softly, he sang, "Some say our world is getting too small,"

Scooter took the next line, "So many things to learn, but we'll enjoy each lesson."

They continued the song together, alternating lines.

"I say with kindness there's room for us all.  
>Problems don't worry us when half the fun is guessin'.<br>Our world is always changing, everyday's a surprise.  
>Live a lifetime of surprise.<br>Love can open your eyes,  
>Brother, look around,<br>In our world."

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. <em>Our World<em> is copyright © Jim Henson Productions. and Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.


	8. Chapter 8: Dear John

**Growing Together  
>Part 8: Dear John<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was another morning in the Muppets' boarding house. Kermit was waiting in line for the bathroom among several dozen of his costarshousemates. Scooter—who, surprisingly, was already dressed—walked into the hall from the living room and said, "Boss, there's a box on the living room table. Take a look."

"What is it?" Kermit asked.

Scooter showed him a magazine titled _Muppet Showbiz._ "I've been reading it. It looks pretty good. Should be worth some publicity."

"Oh, good. Can I read this?"

Scooter handed it to him, saying, "Sure. There's more in the box downstairs. They're for all of us."

"Thanks," Kermit said, and opened the magazine.

"No problem. I'm going to be out. If you need me I've got my cell." Scooter continued down the hall.

* * *

><p>Kermit skimmed the magazine while waiting in line. When his turn came he brushed his teeth, or at least his tongue, took care of other necessities of life, then went down for breakfast. The Swedish Chef was already in the kitchen, doing his thing. How he got there ahead of the others was a mystery, one Kermit had stopped wondering about long ago. He collected some scrambled eggs and toast, sat down at the nearly-empty dining room table, and began reading.<p>

The magazine's forward greeted the reader, congratulated them on their taste in entertainment, and lauded the Muppets for their timeless, sharp yet gentle brand of humor. It stated that the magazine was intended as a tribute to the Muppets, and written both for new fans and those who had loved and respected them through the years. It did not contain gossip, speculation, or unduly personal information, as the Muppets were, after all, people too, and deserved as much respect and discretion as anyone else. _Interesting_, Kermit thought. All too many publications loved to print any dirt they could get their hands on, and when they couldn't get any they'd make something up. Well, not so many, Kermit corrected himself. Only a few actually stooped so low. But they were the ones you remembered. It was nice to be reminded that most others were much kinder.

He turned the page, and saw pictures of himself. Some of them were press photos that had been around for years, and some were film and television stills. Those brought back memories. He smiled as he skimmed the text. His beginnings in the swamp, early television career, Sesame Street... all of this was common knowledge to dedicated fans, but the books that had gathered it all in one place were long out of print. It was flattering to see it in a current publication, evidence that they were once again in the media's eye.

After his section was Miss Piggy's, of course. It began with a page of current fashion photos on the left and the beginning of an article on the right. He read the article with more attention. Miss Piggy loved good publicity—and was very particular about what she considered good. The photo page was the right way to start, he thought.

The article also followed her career from her earliest days, which went back further than Kermit's. Since before she could talk she had been in pageants. There was a picture of her on her mother's lap, all blue eyes and curly, platinum-blonde hair in a ruffly white dress, holding a blue ribbon as if it was a doll. He smiled. She looked as if she had been born for the stage. The article went on to follow her career, through many years of pageants and modeling, taking humbler work such as waitressing or clerical jobs when needed to make ends meet, but always self-reliant. She had persevered and won a spot on The Muppet Show, and quickly worked her way from the back of the chorus to upstage center. _In about fifteen seconds,_ Kermit thought as he recalled that scene. It went on to describe her other efforts, and sweetened the article liberally with plenty of photos. At the end it discussed her lasting impact. She had set a new standard of beauty based on strength and charisma and opened up the field for many others who would otherwise be judged by inappropriate, often unhealthy standards. There was a quote from Annie sue, lauding Miss Piggy as her idol and inspiration. Piggy might not love seeing a picture of Annie Sue in her section, and she didn't like her old pageant photos much, but he thought that overall she'd be very pleased.

Kermit flipped through more pages. Fozzie, Gonzo, Bunsen and Beaker, The Electric Mayhem, Rowlf...then he realized what he had seen, and backed up a few pages. Dr. Teeth? Not according to the caption. He began reading the article. Several minutes later he was grinning. He wasn't under the impression that he knew everything about everyone, but this was a real surprise.

Suddenly noticing the conversation around himself, he looked up. He'd been so engrossed in the magazine he hadn't noticed the table filling up. His breakfast was gone, but the plate was still there; judging from his lack of hunger, he must have eaten it. Fozzie, at his side, asked "What'cha reading?"

"Remember the phone call you told me about a few days ago, when they checked out some information about your past? It was for this."

"Oh, can I see?" Fozzie asked, interested.

"Sure. Scooter said there was a box of them in the living room." He gave Fozzie the magazine and took his plate to the kitchen. Then he went back out to the living room and saw the box on the coffeetable. There looked to be over a dozen in there, with a thank-you note to Scooter from a Yvonne René. He took out a bunch and returned to the dining room.

* * *

><p>Soon people were reading the magazines with interest. There wasn't much for them to learn in those pages, but everyone liked to see their press. There was much comparing of notes and general amusement, and, Kermit noted, more than a few startled expressions. He was willing to bet he knew why.<p>

His suspicion was confirmed when the members of The Electric Mayhem wandered in from their quarters in the back. Animal led them, growling "Coffee!" and dragging Floyd, who was holding on with all of his strength to the other end of the chain. Janice walked after him, vocally hoping that there was still some organic juice left. Zoot and Lips ambled by wordlessly, and Dr. Teeth, his smile buffed to glowing brightness, brought up the rear. Many of the other Muppets looked up at him and grinned, which was not an unpleasant way to begin the day, but it wasn't exactly typical. "I'm glad to have brought such felicitation with the luminosity of my presence," he said.

Rowlf, chuckling, said, "It's not your presence, it's your past."

"Oh? Elucidate, my good dog."

Rowlf held up one of the magazines. "According to this, you used to be a concert pianist."

"Alas, my shameful past has finally come to torment me," Teeth said, sounding amused rather than tormented, and surprisingly unsurprised. He only glanced at the photograph Rowlf had pointed at, showing a much younger version of him sitting at a grand piano in front of an orchestra and wearing a plain tux. He was familiar with that picture. He had, after all, supplied it.

"And the stage name?"

Teeth looked at the caption, then said, "What about it?"

"You used to call yourself _'Doctor John Wogglebug'?"_

"Well of course," Dr. Teeth replied. "Nobody'd believe me if I called myself Perfesser, and Dr. John was already taken." He grinned wider than usual; he was enjoying himself.

"Wow, Rowlf said. "You sure had me fooled. I would never have guessed."

"We all began somewhere. I was not born into the loving arms of rock. In the folly of my youth I was indeed a concert pianist. I played the finest of Vivialdi, Beethoven, and those other cats." He opened up the lid of the upright piano and began playing Vivaldi's _Winter_. At first he played it straight, but soon he began adding his own embellishments, giving the piece new energy and force. After a minute he finished that up and turned back around. "My life changed when I realized one great truth: you can't get your groove on if you're dragging around a bunch of oboes and violins. Momma Wogglebug didn't raise any dumb kids; I vowed to change my ways, got me some keyboards, and the rest is history."

Floyd said, "Hey, who cares what the man used to play? He's a god of rock now!"

"Fer sure."

"Rock and roll!" Animal exclaimed.

"What?" Zoot said, glancing up.

Animal explained, "Rock and roll."

"Oh." Zoot went back to his breakfast.

Lips, as was his wont, did not comment. Kermit said, "Wow. I never knew."

Teeth grinned and laced his fingers together over his stomach. "You never asked."

* * *

><p>Gonzo came downstairs with his daughter and a bevy of hens. They got their breakfasts. Most of the hens took theirs into the living room and claimed the couch. Billie was with them, enthusiastically pecking at her oatmeal just like the chickens.<p>

Gonzo and Camilla went back up to their room. When he shut the door she asked, _Now, what did you want to talk with me about?_

He sat down on the futon their family slept on and put down the plates. Neither started eating. He said, "Brian called the other day. He said that their scientists had been... well, I don't know just what they've been doing, but they've been doing it with our genes. Yours, mine, and Billie's-"

Camilla squawked indignantly. He said, "No, no, I told you, this isn't bad! He told me that, well, it's not that likely that we'll have another..."

Camilla nodded. For years they had thought that because they were so different they'd never have offspring. Then Billie had come along. She had been a surprise, a wonderful one. Since then they hadn't tried to avoid having another. He candled every egg she laid. Each one had been blank. Billie had been a stroke of luck, and they couldn't expect that to happen again.

"He said that genes are like a puzzle, and they have people who can do those puzzles. They could do it for us," he said softly.

_We could have another?_ Camilla asked.

"Yeah. But not the usual way. They'd need some samples, and they'd put things together up there, and give us the chick the next time the spaceship came by."

Camilla left her plate and sat by him, her feathers against his side. He put an arm around her. Looking up at his face, she said, _No egg?_

"There wouldn't be an egg for you to hatch," Gonzo replied softly.

She looked away. Gonzo said, "I know. It's not what I'd choose either. But it might be the only way."

She clucked, nodding. This was too strange for her to grasp at once. She understood the facts Gonzo had laid out: they could create a child made from her and Gonzo, then give it to them already hatched. Another chick would be good, very good, but the idea of someone else assembling your child like they were playing with a jigsaw puzzle... She shook her body, ruffling out her feathers. _I don't know,_ she finally said.

"Me either," he replied in a whisper. "It'll be a little while before he gets here, so we've got time to think about it."

She nodded and pressed against him. He hugged her. "Remember the names we talked about?"

She smiled. As soon as he had candled Billie's egg and seen the proof that they had a chick on the way they had started talking about names, and hadn't stopped until she had hatched. She clucked an affirmative.

He said, "Well, if we do this, and if we get a boy, I'd like to name him James."

She looked up at him and clucked _Why?_

"'Cause whether he was hatched or not you'd be his mother, and that'd make him the son of a hen."

She groaned, then pecked him.

* * *

><p>Fozzie put down the magazine. It was interesting, but he had something else on his mind. He had spent the last few minutes working up his nerve to speak. "Kermit?"<p>

"Yeah, Fozzie?"

"About last night's show...well...it seemed like the last part was kinda slow. Really good! But...you know. Slow."

Kermit nodded. _One More Minute_ had been funny, but they usually ended the show with more energy. Nobody had expected Piggy to restrain herself for so long. "And?"

Nervously Fozzie said, "Um...I thought maybe you could consider moving that act up and using a snappier song at the end?"

"What do you have in mind?" Kermit asked.

Fozzie's tension level lowered visibly. "Weird Al has so many great songs!"

Kermit said, "You know his music better than anyone here, I bet. Why don't you see what you can come up with this afternoon. Tell me when you've got an act worked out."

Fozzie stared. "You _mean_ it?"

"Sure, Fozzie. Pick out something funny and energetic, come up with a plan, and get back to me. If it looks good we'll punch out a script and run it past Al."

Fozzie exclaimed, "Thank you! I'll start right now!" He hopped up and dashed up to his room, already mentally flipping through his CDs. He said "'Scuse me," as he passed Miss Piggy on her way downstairs. She wondered what he was in such a hurry for. Oh well, _n'importe quoi._

A usual, Miss Piggy made her morning entrance later than the rest of the Muppets. She did not stint on her beauty sleep, and she certainly did not intend to get up early only to wait in line to crowd into the bathroom. She had taken her time over her _toilette,_ and looked as lovely as ever.

Nobody glanced up when she came downstairs. All the chickens were on the couch, the hens reading a magazine and squawking their commentary. One clucked to Billie, who answered back in kind and turned the page for them. "Papa!" she said delightedly, pointing at a picture.

When she entered the dining room most of the Muppets were reading. She said, _"Pardonne moi,_ I did not realize that we had a library."

Kermit looked up. "Hi, Piggy! They just printed a magazine about us. Want a look?"

She took the magazine Kermit offered. By some coincidence it was open to the last page of her article. She read about how she inspired others with her strength and determination. It was so very true. She had always known that, and it was nice to _finally_ see it in print! She turned back to the beginning of the article.

Kermit saw the pleasure on Miss Piggy's face as she read about herself. Until she turned to the third page in the article. Then her expression froze. After a long pause she covered the offending photo with her thumb and continued reading.

When she finished she handed it back to Kermit. "It's very nice. I'm so glad they have my best photos. A pity some people can't let go of the past, though." She gave a high, too-bright laugh and went into the kitchen to get her breakfast. When she came back and sat down next to Kermit—nobody had claimed the seat that Fozzie had vacated—she said, "Kermie, it's been forever since we had time to ourselves, just _vous _and _moi."_

"Well, yeah."

"Why don't we take an afternoon off together? Just get away from it all. Forget the theater for a little while and go out for brunch and a little show, hmm? Just the two of us."

"Well...sure," Kermit answered, momentarily surprised. "But today might be a problem..."

"Tomorrow, then?" she pressed.

"Sure. It's a date."

"Wonderful! _Moi _will make all the arrangements," she said, and kissed him on the cheek. Then she turned her attention to her breakfast.

* * *

><p>All characters are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. The overall story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9: Three on a  Dare

**Growing Together  
>Part 9: Three on a Dare<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was a late Saturday afternoon. Fozzie Bear had taken the bus to the Muppet Theater. Kermit had entrusted him with the task of coming up with a new final act for the show, and he thought he had a good idea, but he wasn't sure it would work. He wasn't sure anyone would like it. But he'd promised Kermit he'd come up with something, and he was a bear of his word. He had come to the theater because sitting in the audience or standing on the stage helped him picture what an act would look like.<p>

When he went into the theater house some of the lights were already on. Someone had come in before him. That made him feel a little better; he didn't like being alone very much. The stage lights were on, and Scooter and Janken were on the stage. They had taken out a few hay bales from the jug band number and were sitting on them and talking. It didn't look like they were having a personal moment, so Fozzie walked onto the stage and said, "Hiya."

Janken looked over, and Scooter turned around and said, "Hi, Fozzie. What're you doing here so early?"

"I've got an act to work on for tonight's show. How about you?"

"I got studied out for the afternoon, so I'm helping Janken get used to the stage."

"Oh, stage fright, huh?" Fozzie said sympathetically. Janken nodded. "I get that too. It goes away when the act starts. Usually."

"I'm really new at this," Janken said sheepishly.

Fozzie sat down with them. "If it helps, I thought you did good last night. You didn't look scared to me."

Janken smiled. "Thanks. It does help."

Scooter asked Fozzie, "What kind of act are you working on?"

"Well, the song at the end last night seemed kinda slow. I mentioned it to Kermit, and he asked me to pick out a better one and come up with an act."

Scooter and Janken exchanged glances. "You saw that too. Have you picked out a song?" Scooter asked.

"Yeah. Well, I think so. But I'm not sure how to write an act around it," Fozzie said hesitantly.

Fozzie had a CD case in his hand, Scooter noticed. He stood up and, beckoning them to follow him into the left wings, said, "C'mon, let's hear it."

The three went to Janken's console. It controlled the cameras, and could also send out audio and video. Fozzie handed the CD to Janken, who slid it into the tray. "It's the second song."

Janken clicked on the second track. The music began. It was fast-paced and goofy, and so were the lyrics. Scooter grinned after he heard the first few lines. He remembered the video for this one.

When the song finished Fozzie asked anxiously, "What do you think? Is it too silly?"

"Nah. I like it," Scooter said. "It's peppy, we can use everybody in the song, and I bet by the end we'll have the audience singing too. Let's do it!"

"Oh, good! I'll talk to Kermit."

"Wait, first let's flesh it out some, give him something that's ready to put onstage," Scooter said.

"Okay."

"It'd help if we went through Wardrobe to find as much Devo-style stuff as we can, but let's save that for later. First let's write it up. Who gets which lines?"

* * *

><p>Several hours later the rest of The Muppets arrived at the theater. Fozzie, Scooter, and Janken were sitting on the stage and laughing. Kermit the Frog walked out to them. "I was wondering where you were, Fozzie. What've you got for me?"<p>

"Try this out for size, boss," Scooter said, and handed Kermit his pad.

Kermit read the title. It was not a song he remembered. Below it was the lyrics, with names added after the lines and other notes in between. Scooter said, "The costumes won't be hard. It's a Devo-style song, so we can just find Devo-like stuff in Wardrobe and go from there. No need to make anything new."

"No time, either," Kermit replied.

Scooter said to Fozzie, "Why don't you play the song for Kermit while I print this out?"

"Sure!"

Kermit, Fozzie, and Janken went to the camera console. Janken started the playback again. This time it came through the theater's sound system. The other Muppets were startled by the noise, which seemed to be coming from two lone bales of hay.

When the song finished Fozzie said, "Well? What do you think?" as confidently as he could manage.

Before Kermit could answer Scooter bustled up with a handful of copies of the act's script. He handed one to each of them. "Here we go. The biggest parts are for Al, The Electric Mayhem, and Fozzie. Al already knows the song, of course. The Electric Mayhem can play it; they're all great at picking up new tunes fast. And the lead-in with Fozzie and Al is short, so it won't need much rehearsal, and if they go off script it won't matter as long as they get to the song cue. As for the rest of us, the parts are small, so we can learn it in no time flat."

Some of the other Muppets had come over, wondering what the fuss was about. Scooter saw them and handed around more copies, explaining that they were working on a new final act.

Miss Piggy looked at the pages that Scooter had offered her. Then she said, looking from Scooter to Kermit, "A new finale?"

For once Scooter didn't pipe up. Kermit said, "Er, yes. We were thinking of moving _One More Minute_ to earlier in the show and ending with a different song. So we can finish with more of an, ah, bang."

"But if you add something, you will also have to _cut_ something, won't _vous?"_

"Well, yeah, unless something falls through," Kermit conceded.

"I _see."_ Miss Piggy looked at the pages again, then handed them back to Scooter. "Kermie, you may cut _moi's_ song with Al. This once, _moi_ will step aside for the good of the show."

Startled, Kermit said, "Are you sure, Piggy?"

"Of course, Kermie. I already have another part in the second act, and if you move _One More Minute_ up I won't be able to change costumes and do my hair." She threw a smile at them. "Go on and have your fun. Ta ta!"

Kermit and Scooter exchanged surprised glances. They didn't have to say what they were both thinking: _That went easier than expected._ Scooter said, "So, Boss, what do you think?"

"I think you've presented me with a _fait accompli," _the frog answered.

Unabashed, Scooter asked, "So, do you like it?"

"Sure. Make copies for everyone in the act and tell them that rehearsal starts right after Weird Al gets here."

"Sure thing, chief!"

Wryly Kermit said, "Sometimes I wonder what keeps you from taking over completely."

Cheerfully Scooter replied, "I could never do that, boss! Your signature's too hard to imitate," and headed for the copier.

* * *

><p>Kermit, Fozzie, and Scooter were conferring at Kermit's desk when Weird Al Yankovic entered via the back door. Apparently nobody had given him new directions, Kermit thought. He said, "Hi, Al. I'm glad to see you. We've got something a little different in mind for tonight's show."<p>

"Oh? What's the plan?" Al asked.

Kermit glanced at Scooter. Recognizing his cue, Scooter said, "We're going to swap the final act. _One More Minute_ was good, but Fozzie's come up with something that's even better! Remember how you said you'd like to play with the Electric Mayhem?"

Kermit left them to it. He looked across the stage to backstage left. Janken was playing the song for the band. Thankfully, they could play a tune from memory, without benefit of sheet music. Possibly the only Muppet who used sheet music was Rowlf.

Gonzo was reading the new script pages. He looked preoccupied. Kermit went over to him and asked, "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," Gonzo answered.

"You look like you've got something on your mind."

"Well, yeah, I do. But it's nothing to worry about. I'm good." Gonzo gave a small smile. "Oh—look what I have!" He held a plastic container out to Kermit.

Kermit took it, popped the top, and looked inside. "It's butter."

"Yes! Just what my act needed yesterday."

Kermit handed it back. "Good thinking," was all he could say.

He turned back to Al, Scooter, and Fozzie. From the look of it, Scooter had sold the act to Weird Al. Al was saying, "Then I guess I won't need to go back and get my accordion after all. Do you have goggles?"

Scooter replied, "You'd be _amazed_ at what we have in Wardrobe."

"I guess so. Give me a minute and I'll be ready to rehearse."

"Sure thing," Scooter said as Al went up the stairs to his dressing room.

* * *

><p>During the next ten minutes Scooter rushed copies of the new act's script around to anyone who hadn't gotten one yet, various Muppets hunted around in Wardrobe for suitable costumes, and the Electric Mayhem played snatches of music. Then Kermit intercommed everybody to the stage for rehearsal. At first they just listened to the song. Then they ran through the act several times, working out the logistical problems that having so many people onstage would cause. Some lines were swapped between Muppets. Scooter made notes of all the changes on his script. After they had done one smooth run-through and everyone was satisfied, Scooter went off to enter the changes, print out new copies of the pages, and hand them out. By the time he tapped on Weird Al's dressing room door the first members of the audience had taken their seats.<p>

Al said "Come in." Scooter did, and Al said, "Is that the last number?"

"Yep. I bet it's gonna be great!" Scooter said, handing it over.

"I sure hope so. Thanks."

"No problem. See ya in twenty-seven minutes!" Scooter darted back out.

* * *

><p>When Weird Al came out of his dressing room twenty-six minutes later, the Muppets backstage were comparing costumes. Only a few came close to those worn in the video—hazmat suits, which they had on hand for Muppet Labs—but that was fine. They were going for an overall image, and having a wonderful time of it. As he watched Sweetums high-fived Bean Bunny, sending the rabbit flying across the area.<p>

Scooter announced via the intercom, "The show's starting! Places, everyone!" The Muppets quickly put their costumes aside. In the orchestra pit, the theme began to play. Kermit caught Weird Al's eye and waved just before hopping up to the back of the logo.

Weird Al watched the opening theme from the wings. When Sweetums came backstage after posing in the arches, Al said, "Hey, I have an idea. Would you do me a favor?"

Surprised, Sweetums said, "Sure."

* * *

><p>In front of the curtains, warmed by the spotlight, Kermit said, "Welcome once again to that which we call The Muppet Show! We have a fantastic show for you tonight. Tonight's guest is one we've wanted have as a guest for years, and tonight I can finally say, let's give a big round of applause for Weird Al Yankovic! Yaaay!" He waved his arms, and the audience cheered.<p>

Nobody joined Kermit onstage. When the applause died down Kermit said to the right wings, "Uh, Al?" No answer. "Has anybody seen Al?"

Sweetums lumbered onstage, carrying Weird Al over his shoulder. The ogre said, "I caught him tryin' to sneak out the back way," and plopped him down on his feet next to Kermit. He dusted his hands off and walked back offstage.

Al, looking frightened, said, "Uh...hi."

"We're so glad that you've finally come to visit with us, Al. And we're even more glad that you've even written us a song."

"I _have?"_

Sweetums leaned out into the stage and glared at him. "Yeah, you have!"

"Oh. Uh... okay, I guess I have." A microphone stand rose from the orchestra pit. Weird Al caught it. The orchestra began to play the music to _I Will Survive_.

Kermit watched from the side. He hadn't expected that entrance with Sweetums. He had been concerned about the last-minute switch in acts; some guest stars didn't like such surprises. Weird Al, on the other hand, rolled with the punches and came up with some of his own.

When the song was finished Al bowed over and over. Just as the applause was thinning Sweetums walked back onstage, slung Al over his shoulder again, and carried him offstage, still blowing kisses to the audience. Once backstage Sweetums set him down again and went to help change the set for Gonzo's electroplating stunt. Kermit said, "That was great. When did you two plan that?"

"Right before we did it," he answered.

Scooter said, "'Scuse me, guys. Kermit, have you seen Bubba?"

"No. The rest of the jug band's in the canteen, but he didn't show up."

"I thought so. Thanks." He tapped the intercom on Kermit's desk. "Jan, Bubba's still a no-show. I need you to fill in again."

"Okay. I've got the vest and hat," Janken answered.

* * *

><p>The show progressed normally, as much as that term applied. Gonzo again successfully bronzed his nose, and thanks to the butter he had brought he de-bronzed himself as soon as Gladys melted it for him. Most of the Muppets spent their time gearing up for the final number. Many of the costumes weren't exactly Devo, but they certainly fit in with the stated theme of the song. Some came up with bits of business to add to the number. They weren't edited into the script; Scooter had too much to do to type them in, and it was more fun to just let it happen.<p>

Janken played in the jug band while Scooter covered the cameras for him, then took his place back at the console. This time he grinned shakily at Scooter, and got a pat on the back before Scooter scurried off to backstage right. It was still scary onstage, but Janken could handle it. He only had to do it once more—unless he lucked out and Bubba finally turned up, which by now was very unlikely—and he was pleased with himself for facing up to it this time.

Intermission came and went, as did the second half of the show. When the curtain rose for the final number Fozzie and Weird Al were alone onstage behind a waist-high wall, leaning over it as if gossiping. Fozzie said, "I'm glad we finally got a chance to talk. How do you like the show?"

Al replied, "It's great. This is the most fun I've had since yesterday."

"I wanted to ask, how do you write all those funny songs?"

Al replied, "Well, I choose songs people will recognize and write about things people know. You know, food, TV, junk E-mail, that kind of thing. Some of the ideas just pop into my head based on the titles. I don't usually take suggestions, but when Madonna came up with _Like a Surgeon_, well, how could I say no?"

"Yeah," Fozzie said, chin in one hand, eagerly listening.

Weird Al continued, "After I have the hook, what the song's about, I start writing lyrics. Take the joke and run with it, and get as silly as I can with it."

"Yeah, silly is good," Fozzie agreed.

"In fact, I say, don't stop with silly. Take it even further."

Surprised, Fozzie asked, "Further? How far?"

Al said reluctantly, "I... uh, Fozzie, I can't just say it."

"Why? Why not?" Fozzie asked.

"Because I can only tell you... in a _song!"_

On cue, the wall collapsed, and the Elerctric Mayhem's stand rose behind it. The band appeared in their places, and they began to play a manic tune. Al sang into a now-visible boom mike,  
>"Put down that chainsaw and listen to me,<br>It's time for us to join in the fight.  
>It's time to let your babies grow up to be cowboys.<br>It's time to let the bedbugs bite."

Gonzo and a flock of hens joined them onstage. Gonzo sang,  
>"You better put all your eggs in one basket!"<p>

Camilla clucked,_  
>You better count your chickens before they hatch!<em>

Kermit came in from the other side and said,  
>"You better sell some wine before its time,"<p>

Rowlf sang,  
>"You better find yourself an itch to scratch."<p>

Fozzie, happily snapping his fingers in time with the music, sang,  
>"You better squeeze all the Charmin you can<br>When Mr. Whipple's not around!"

Beauregard wandered onstage with a mop over one shoulder.  
>"Stick your head in the microwave and get yourself a tan."<p>

Rizzo the Rat said,  
>"Talk with your mouth full."<p>

Johnny Fiama and Sal made their entrance. Sal said,  
>"Bite the hand that feeds you."<p>

Fiama shot him a glare and said,  
>"Bite off more than you can chew."<p>

Weird Al said,  
>"What can you do?<br>Dare to be stupid!"

Dr. Strangepork sang,  
>"Take some wooden nickels."<p>

Link followed with,  
>"Look for Mr. Goodbar."<p>

Pepe countered,  
>"Get your mojo working now, okay."<p>

Weird Al sang,  
>"I'll show you how<br>You can dare to be stupid!"

Janice sang,  
>"You can turn the other cheek."<p>

Floyd sang,  
>"You can just give up the ship."<p>

Miss Piggy appeared next to Kermit.  
>"You can eat a bunch of sushi, then forget to leave a tip."<p>

Everyone sang together,  
>"Dare to be stupid!<br>Come on and dare to be stupid!  
>It's so easy to do, dare to be stupid!<br>We're all waiting for you—

Al said,  
>"Let's go!"<p>

The Electric Mayhem were joined for the instrumental by Marvin Suggs and his Muppaphones. Lew Zealand tossed fish around. In their box, Statler and Waldorf watched, stunned. After a few moments Waldorf said, "I don't know what to say."

"They've taken away all of our ammo."

"Still, you have to admire their principles."

"What principles?" Statler asked.

"Truth in advertising."

They both laughed. Onstage, Sweetums sang,  
>"It's time to make a mountain out of a molehill<br>So can I have a volunteer?"

Scooter sang,  
>"There's no more time for crying over spilled milk."<p>

Clifford replied,  
>"Now it's time for crying in your beer."<p>

They nodded to each other and made to leave the stage, but were blocked by Sam the Eagle, who admonsished them,  
>"Settle down, raise a family, join the P.T.A.,<br>Buy some sensible shoes and a Chevrolet."

Crazy Harry cackled,  
>"Then party till you're broke and they drag you away!"<p>

Al sang,  
>"It's okay! You can dare to be stupid!"<p>

Lew Zealand sang,  
>"It's like spitting on a fish."<p>

Rowlf sang,  
>"It's like barking up a tree."<p>

Uncle Deadly appeared, startling those around him.  
>"It's like I said, you have to buy one if you want to get one free."<p>

Everyone sang,  
>"Dare to be stupid!<br>Yes, Why don't you dare to be stupid!  
>It's so easy, so easy to do, why don't you do it!<br>We're all waiting for you, dare to be stupid!"

Wayne sang, causing others to wince,  
>"Burn your candle at both ends,"<p>

Wanda upped the ante with,  
>"Look a gift horse in the mouth."<p>

The Swedish Chef added,  
>"Måshed pøtatœs kan bë yøeur frîënds."<p>

Pops sang,  
>"You can be a coffee achiever."<p>

Bobo the Bear sang,  
>"You can sit around the house<br>And watch _Leave It To Beaver_."

Al sang,  
>"The future's up to you,<br>So what you gonna do?  
>Dare to be stupid!<br>Dare to be stupid!"

Al started calling lines out, with all of the Muppets onstage responding.  
>"What did I say?<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>Tell me, what did I say?<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>It's all right,<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>We can be stupid all night!<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>Come on, join the crowd!<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>Shout it out loud!<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>I can't hear you.<br>Dare to be stupid!  
>Okay, I can hear you now.<br>Dare to be stupid!

Everyone repeated the last line. Janken, at his station, was singing along for the sheer silly joy of it. Up in the monitors, he saw that the audience had joined the call-and-response, and by now even Statler and Waldorf had given in and were singing along.

They were still singing when Kermit stepped up to the front of the stage and said, "And on that note, I'd like to thank our wonderfully wacky guest star, Weird Al Yankovic!"

Weird Al came forward and said, "Thanks, Kermit. I've had a blast being on your show."

"Oh, good, that's..." Kermit glanced back. Everyone was still repeating "Dare to be Stupid" with gusto. Kermit said, "The song's over now. You can stop."

"We don't know how," Beauregard replied desperately.

"Yeah, we're stuck!" Bean Bunny squeaked.

Kermit said, "Sheesh. We'll get this sorted out by next week's episode of The Muppet Show!"

* * *

><p>In the canteen, Gladys heard the familiar theme song replace <em>Dare to be Stupid<em>. Moments later, the canteen was thronged with Muppets needing water to soothe sorely-taxed throats.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. <em>Dare to be Stupid <em>is copyright © Weird Al Yankovic. and Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland ), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.


	10. Chapter 10: What Do You Do on a Date

**Growing Together  
>Part 10: What Do You Do on A Date at <strong>_**Ma Maison?**_  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was late morning, and the weather was pleasant and otherwise unremarkable. Most of the Muppets were eating their breakfasts, as they slept in after doing their shows.<p>

Scooter was waiting for Kermit. He was usually among the throng, but he hadn't come down yet. That was unusual, but not worrisome. Sometimes people just felt like sleeping a little longer. Scooter could wait. Tonight's show would be the third and last of the set, and the third show usually went smoothly, relatively speaking, as they had ironed out the worst of the bugs during the previous two.

When Kermit did come downstairs he was accompanied by Miss Piggy. She was wearing an informal, flattering burgundy blouse and a knee-length skirt that was slit up to mid-thigh on one side. And, of course, high heels and her signature arm-length gloves. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders and swooshed impressively when she turned her head. Scooter guessed that she and Kermit had plans. They couldn't be too fancy, because Kermit was wearing his usual outfit: nothing.

Scooter considered intercepting them before they made it to the front door, but decided against it. He didn't really have anything to tell Kermit except that he was going to be out for the afternoon again, and it was standard operating procedure to call his cell if he wasn't within shouting distance. And if Piggy had her way, Kermit would not be calling anyone about the show while he was with her.

* * *

><p>The cab that Piggy had called was waiting in front of the house. She let Kermit open the door for her, and said as she got in, "Take us to <em>Ma Maison, s'il vous plâit."<em>

"You mean Ma Maison on Cheshire Bridge?" the driver drawled.

"Yeah. That."

* * *

><p>In their room, Gonzo and Camilla were enjoying the start of what promised to be a lazy day while Billie decorated a coloring book. Everyone was startled when one of the children's books on the floor spoke. "Hi, Gonzo?"<p>

"Brian? I didn't know you can speak through books too." Billie scooted over to the book and watched, wide-eyed.

"I use whatever's on hand," Brian replied. I just wanted to let you know I'll be there tomorrow. Mind if I drop by?"

"Sure, that's okay. We'll be at the theater most of the day."

"I'll see you there, then. Uh... have you given any thought to what we talked about?"

Gonzo and Camilla glanced at each other. Gonzo said, "Yeah. We haven't decided yet, though."

"That's all right. But I'll need to know while I'm here so we can get the samples. See you then."

"See ya."

The book stopped talking. Billie looked at her parents. "Book not talk?" she asked, disappointed.

_It's done talking,_ Camilla answered.

Billie looked at the book for a moment. Then she picked it up and began opening and closing it like a puppet's mouth while saying, "Bla bla bla bla!"

* * *

><p>The cab let Kermit and Piggy out at <em>Ma Maison<em>. It was a nice restaurant, not as posh as some that Miss Piggy favored, but Kermit was willing to bet that if there were any flies on the premises, they wore jackets and ties. Miss Piggy stepped up to the Maitre d' and sang, "Hello, Jean-Luc! We'll have my usual table."

He consulted the reservation list, found Miss Piggy, party of two, and guided them to a table. Kermit reached for a menu. Piggy said, "Kermie, let me order for us."

"I'd like to see what they serve," Kermit said.

"Oh, it's the usual stuff," she told him. She looked around, flashing a bright smile for anyone who happened to be looking.

* * *

><p>They chatted for a while about the show, about movies and theatrical shows they wanted to see, about anything that occurred to them. Miss Piggy ordered <em>"deux plaque bleue spéciales<em>, with extra _avec."_ The conversation was pleasant and relaxed, more like two good friends talking rather than a pig pursuing a frog. Sometimes she put him on the defensive, but at times like this he enjoyed being with her.

After a while, however, she became antsy. Kermit asked, "Something wrong, Piggy?"

She turned back to him—she had been glancing around the restaurant—and said, "No, nothing at all. Please excuse _moi,_ Kermie. I must go powder my nose."

She grabbed her purse and hurried off. No wonder she looked uncomfortable, Kermit thought.

She stepped into the ladies' lounge, took out her cell phone, and pressed several buttons with her thumb. She tapped her foot impatiently as it rang. When the line picked up she said, "Bernie, what gives?"

* * *

><p>Kermit waited. He knew that Miss Piggy might be awhile. When Piggy was freshening her makeup, she didn't rush. He got up and went to wash his hands before the food arrived.<p>

When he walked past the ladies' lounge he heard Miss Piggy's voice. "How hard is it to just get someone here to take a few cell phone pictures and leak 'em on Facebook and Tweeter?" Pause. "Mama-san's? I told you _Ma Maison!"_

Kermit scowled. He considered several courses of action. When he made his decision, he went to wash his hands.

* * *

><p>Miss Piggy lowered her voice. "No, I don't want you to send someone here now! The idea was to leak a few pictures of me and Kermit on a nice little date, not stuffing our faces. Just have 'em at the movie theater. You <em>do<em> remember which one, right?" Pause. "Right. Talk to you later." She ended the call and dropped the phone in her purse.

When Piggy returned to the table Kermit gave her a strange look. She sat down and said, "Is something the matter, Kermie?"

"I overheard the phone call," he said quietly.

"Oh..."

In a calm, reasonable tone he said, "I thought you wanted to be with me. But it's just for publicity."

"No, Kermie! I _do_ want to be with you!" she insisted.

"Just you, me, and your photographers," he continued in a low voice. "Well, you win. I don't want to make a scene and ruin everyone else's lunch, and I _really_ don't want to see photos of it everywhere afterward."

Normally when he was angry with her he blew his stack. She would have preferred him to have a yelling fit. She knew how to deal with those: just wait until he ran out of steam, then continue as if nothing had happened. His quiet accusation, and, even worse, his disappointment hurt more than anything he would have said in a fit of temper. Softly she said, "We could just leave."

"No. The food's coming," he told her. "We're going to have lunch like a happy couple."

Talking to the tablecloth, she said, "How are we supposed to do _that?"_

"Do what I'm going to do. Act."

* * *

><p>During the meal Miss Piggy tried to tell Kermit that no photographer was coming, and the publicity had been an afterthought, but he acted as if he didn't hear her. He was bright and cheerful and smiled to those who were looking at the famous frog and pig in their midst. He seemed to be having a good time, but his smile never touched his eyes.<p>

Miss Piggy hardly spoke except to answer some scripted-sounding remark with an overly cheerful reply. She could fake happiness. However, to Kermit her voice sounded brittle. She wasn't angry. She genuinely felt bad. By the end of the meal Kermit had calmed down, and asked Piggy what she wanted for dessert. She declined, claiming not to be hungry. Kermit thought, she must _really_ feel terrible. He paid the bill, because there were some constants in the world, and Miss Piggy called for the cab to pick them up early.

They sat on a bench outside the restaurant. It would be a few minutes until the cab arrived. Piggy said softly, "I'm sorry."

Kermit looked at her for a moment. She meant it. He said, "I guess we can still go see the movie."

She admitted, "I told Bernie about that too."

"We can go someplace else, then."

"All right."

* * *

><p>They went back home. Miss Piggy went upstairs to change while Kermit looked through the newspaper theater listings. Gonzo, who happened to be hanging around, asked, "Gonna go see a movie? Which one?"<p>

"I don't know. I'm looking to see what's playing."

"You're going with Miss Piggy, right?"

"Yeah."

Something seemed amiss, but Gonzo wasn't about to pry. It would open up a can of worms, and not the kind that frogs liked. He said, "What kind of movie?"

"I don't know. Something different. Something that'll take our minds off everything," Kermit answered.

Gonzo grinned suddenly. "How about a show? I know one that's perfect for that."

"When's it playing?"

Gonzo glanced at the clock. "In an hour. Camilla and I saw it when it opened last week. It's a musical comedy that's been touring. We loved it, but we wouldn't bring Billie, heh heh. Want me to snag you some tickets?"

"Sure, thanks," Kermit said. "Right now I could use some comedy."

Gonzo got on the phone. Piggy came down the stairs, now wearing a simple sweater and designer jeans. Her makeup had been dialed down several degrees. When she wasn't busy being gorgeous, Kermit thought, she really did look nice. She asked, "Have you picked a movie?"

"Actually, we're going to see a show-"

"Oh! Just let me change-"

She turned to rush back up the stairs. Kermit said, "No, no, what you have on is fine. Um, really good, in fact."

Surprised by the unsolicited compliment, she said, "Why, thank you, Kermie."

"The show starts in an hour. Call for the cab."

"Okay!"

She got out her cell phone again. Gonzo set down the phone and told Kermit, "It's all set. There'll be two at Will Call at the Nualto in your name."

"Thanks, Gonzo. How much are they?"

"Freebies." He grinned. "The sponsor's an old friend, so I can get comp tickets to the afternoon shows. Have fun!"

* * *

><p>When Kermit and Piggy got to the theater they saw that the production was <em>Street Z<em>. Miss Piggy said, "Oh, I heard about this in the trades!"

"What's it about?" Kermit asked.

"I don't know, but it won _Best Musical."_

Kermit got the tickets, and they went to their seats. Reading his program, Kermit saw that the sponsor was the TMI. Ah, now it made sense; that organization had rescued Gonzo from homelessness years ago, and recently he had been helping them with publicity. The program contained a prominent blurb about the mission of the TMI. Hopefully, Kermit thought, people would read and remember it.

The musical started. At first it was amusing, but quickly took a strange turn. Initially Kermit was startled, and wasn't sure how to react. But after the initial shock he began to enjoy its affectionately subversive humor. Soon he was laughing along with the rest of the audience, and so was Miss Piggy.

* * *

><p>After the show was over Kermit said, "I had no idea the show was anything like that. But I liked it."<p>

"I suppose that after today we needed a laugh, didn't we?" Miss Piggy replied.

Kermit nodded agreement. "We've got some time before we have to go to the theater. How about dessert?"

"I just happen to know a nice little place near here."

"Let's go, then."

Miss Piggy's hand clasped his as they walked along the sidewalk among others who had seen the same show. She said, "I'm sorry about the photographer. I only wanted to give others a little peep into our happiness. That's all."

He replied, "Piggy, you can have all the publicity you want. But I don't want to be posing for cameras all the time. Some things should be private."

"You want me to yourself?" she asked.

"When we're going out, just the two of us, yeah."

She put an arm around his shoulders and drew him close, sighing, "Oh, Kermie."

* * *

><p>All characters are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. The overall story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11: Fantasies Come True

**Growing Together  
>Part 11: Fantasies Come True<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It was the Sunday evening before the third show of the set. Everyone was fairly relaxed, because by now they had a pretty good idea of what they were doing.<p>

Gonzo and Camilla had a guest. Gonzo had decided to bring their daughter Billie to the theater. She had been here before, as arranging babysitting during a show could be tricky if all of the hens were performing, but not often. The chick was enjoying the change of scenery, both figuratively and literally.

When Weird Al arrived Billie stared. She knew everyone else at the theater; she regarded them as part of her family. This person was new! She pointed at him and asked Gonzo, "Who das, Daddy?"

"That's Weird Al," Gonzo told her.

Billie waved to Al. "Hi! I'm Billie!"

Surprised, Al said, "I didn't know you had kids."

"Just the one, so far," Gonzo said, smiling at the chick. "Camilla and I keep our private life private. We don't want people bugging us. We had enough of that when we got married."

"I heard about that," Al said. "It blew over pretty quickly, though."

"Yep. Thank goodness."

Billie held her arms out to Al and said, "Up!"

"Do you mind?" Al asked Gonzo.

"Go ahead."

Weird Al picked Billie up. The chick was happily amazed by this pink being with the colorful shirt. She grinned at him and began stroking his hair, intrigued by its texture. Gonzo smiled as he watched them. Weird Al had a daughter too, and in fact he'd cut back on his musical life to put his family first. Gonzo could see the sense in that. Since Billie's hatching, there had been a lot more in Gonzo's life than the next stunt. It was a change he had never regretted.

Billie was as happy and curious as any two-year-old chick. Yet Gonzo had never taken her out anywhere because he thought he had to protect her from the world. The same people who had harassed Gonzo for wanting to marry a chicken might harass their child merely for existing. He couldn't bear the thought of them mistreating her like that... but he couldn't keep her a secret forever. He couldn't raise her in a box.

* * *

><p>Kermit tapped on Miss Piggy's dressing room door. "Piggy?"<p>

"Come in."

Kermit went in and shut the door behind himself. She was seated at her makeup table brushing out her hair. "Scooter said you wanted to talk with me about an act."

"Yes. I'd like to do _One More Minute_ in tonight's show."

That was the last thing Kermit would have guessed. "I got the impression you didn't like that number much."

"It did catch me by surprise the first time," she said with a casual wave. "But after that show we saw today I started thinking. It doesn't do to take oneself too seriously, does it?"

"What do you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.

She laughed a stage laugh. "Really, Kermie, don't you trust me? I want it to be a surprise."

"On who?"

"I promise I won't maim Al, if that's what you're worried about."

Kermit wanted to know more, but, he thought, Miss Piggy had something planned, and she wouldn't intentionally make herself look bad onstage. If there was one thing she was protective of, it was her image. He said, "Plan it out with Al. If you can sell it to him, I'll slip it in. But I'm not going to take out _Dare to be Stupid."_

"Of course not. I'll need it to be in the first act so I'll have time to change costumes and do my hair."

"All right. As long as you plan it with Weird Al."

She smiled. "Kermie, I promise you'll like it. And... I really liked our date. The second part, anyway."

"Yeah. I did too. Piggy... I wish it could be like that more often," he said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"At the show, and at the ice cream place afterwards, you weren't posing for the cameras, you weren't acting like a star for your fans... you were just you. I wish I could see that side of you more often."

She paused, gazing into his eyes, then held out a hand to him and said quietly, "I'll try."

Kermit took it. The satin was warm against his cool fingers. "That's all I can ask," he said.

Miss Piggy didn't say anything. She didn't want to speak. She just wanted to look in Kermit's eyes and hold his hand.

There was something that Kermit wanted to ask Miss Piggy, but he wasn't sure how she would react. He didn't want to risk upsetting her right before a show. He would find a time, he told himself. Just not now.

The spell was broken by a rapid pattering at the door. "Hey, is Kermit in there?" Rizzo the Rat called through the door.

"Get lost, cat bait," Miss Piggy snarled.

"We got a problem out here!"

Annoyed, Kermit said, "I'd better deal with this."

"Of course, Kermie."

He squeezed her hand, then let go and opened the door. "What is it?"

Rizzo, at the front of a cluster of rats, said, "We can't do the Judgment of Solomon act tonight!"

"Why? What's the problem?"

"We're missing a prop."

"Which prop?" Kermit asked, although he already knew the answer.

"The cheese."

"Uh-_huh."_

"C'mon, we got hungry!"

And Scooter had more than enough to do without having to go-fer a wedge of cheddar, Kermit thought. Behind him, Miss Piggy sang out, "Oh, dear, it looks like we'll need a replacement for that act, won't we?"

"And it just so happens we have one," Kermit said. "How convenient."

* * *

><p>After Kermit conferred with Scooter, and they both conferred with Weird Al, they decided to insert <em>One More Minute<em> at the end of the first act. They could see that Al and Piggy had indeed planned their act out, which set Kermit's mind at ease.

Once again, Bubba did not show up at the theater, so Janken had to take his place in the jug band act. He did so without complaint, and when it was done he sank back in his console chair, weak with relief because he would not have to face the stage again.

Before the final number of the first act, Miss Piggy, once again dressed as a Greek muse, waited backstage, talking with Weird Al. Their heads were together, as if sharing secrets. Kermit left them to it; clearly they were enjoying themselves.

_One More Minute_ began with the same tableau as before: Weird Al upstage center with a microphone, Miss Piggy posing on a column, and Rowlf, Clifford, and Pepe downstage as the doo-wop singers. After the short musical intro, Weird Al sang longingly to Piggy,  
>"Well, I heard that you're leaving,<br>Gonna leave far behind.  
>'Cause you found a brand new lover,<br>You decided that I'm not your type."

Miss Piggy glanced at him briefly, then turned away haughtily. Al continued,  
>"So I pulled your name out of my Rolodex,<br>And I tore all your pictures in two,  
>And I burned down the malt shop where we used to go<br>Just because it reminds me of you."

The stage lighting turned yellow and flickery for a moment before returning to normal.  
>"That's right, you ain't gonna see me crying,<br>I'm glad that you found somebody new."

Piggy countered,  
>"Well, I'd rather spend eternity eating shards of broken glass<br>Than spend one more minute with you."

Al looked startled. Then he continued,  
>"I know I may seem kinda bitter,<br>You got me feeling down in the dumps  
>'Cause I'm stranded all alone in the gas station of love<br>And I have to use the self-service pumps!"

Miss Piggy belted out,  
>"Well, then, honey,<br>Let me help you with that suitcase.  
>You're not gonna break my heart in two.<br>'Cause I'd rather have a hundred thousand paper cuts on my face  
>Than spend one more minute with <em>vous!"<em>

Backstage left, Janken was staring at the monitors in surprise. He said to Scooter, who was watching over his shoulder, "Did you know she was gonna jump in like that?"

Scooter, not even trying to stifle his laughter, said "Nope."

Onstage, Weird Al upped the ante.  
>"I'd rather rip out my intestines with a fork<br>Than watch you going out with other men.  
>I'd rather slam my fingers in a door<br>Again and again and again and again and again."

Piggy faced him and, poking him in the chest with one finger, said,  
>"Well, lemme tell you something, darlin'!<br>I'd rather have my blood sucked out by leeches,  
>Or shove an icepick under a toenail or two.<br>I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue  
>Than spend one more minute with <em>vous!"<em>

He leaned close and said,  
>"I'd rather jump naked on huge pile of thumbtacks<br>Or stick my nostrils together with Krazy Glue!"

She touched her snout to his nose and replied point-blank,  
>"I'd rather dive in a swimming pool filled with double-edged razor blades<br>Than spend one more minute with you!"

He drew in a breath and emoted,  
>"I'd rather rip my heart right out of my rib cage with my bare hands<br>And throw it on the floor and stomp on it till I die!"

Miss Piggy paused, then said, "All right, all right, you win. Sheesh."

They leaned close again and gazed into each other's eyes, then sang the last line together:  
>"Than spend one more minute with you."<p>

Over the last notes Al stage whispered, "Are you as turned on as I am?"

Piggy answered, "More!"

As the curtains closed she leapt into his arms, knocking him over backwards.

* * *

><p>Backstage, the Muppets who had been watching applauded appreciatively. Both Miss Piggy and Weird Al bowed theatrically, grinning. Kermit said, "That was great! Great number!"<p>

"Thank you, Kermie," Miss Piggy said. Now _moi_ must change into my _Pigs in Space_ uniform. Ta ta!" She sailed up the stairs.

* * *

><p>The second act went off more or less as expected. There was some extra comedy during <em>Dare to be Stupid<em>, as the Muppets had had more time to think of gags. It was a challenge to get everything on camera. A gag was no use if it was on the side of the frame. Because of this, Janken did not notice the unexpected addition to the cast.

After the curtain closed for the last time and they had taken their bows, Al said, "Whew. Thanks, everybody. This has been great. I can't wait to see in on TV."

"We can't either. You've been one of our favorite guests," Kermit replied.

"I'll bet you say that to all your guests," Al replied with exaggerated modesty.

"On camera, sure," Scooter remarked. "We're off camera now, so he's probably telling the truth."

Gonzo, still wearing a hazmat suit, walked by on the way to his dressing room. Billie, in his arms, was excitedly chanting "Da ta ba ba ba!" She couldn't remember the words from the song, but that didn't keep her from enjoying herself immensely.

Kermit said, "Gonzo, did you carry her onstage?"

"Yep," Gonzo replied. Camilla nodded and clucked emphatically.

"I...didn't expect that."

Gonzo said, "I know. I've been keeping her secret... but, I got to thinking, does it matter anymore? All that noise about me and Camilla happened two years ago. We're as safe as we're ever gonna be by now. Besides," he said, looking at his chick, "I wanna take her on a picnic."

"Well, go for it," Kermit said, patting Gonzo on the back.

* * *

><p>Janken was about to close down the console. He asked Scooter, "Need to see anything?"<p>

"Nah. Since finals are early tomorrow, I won't be here to pick out the best acts of the set. You all can choose without me."

"Suits me. I'm ready to go home."

"Yeah," Scooter said. He had his backpack, which contained his book and notes. He had spent much of the afternoon at Janken's home, and most of that time had been spent studying. He had come here after that, so he still had his books with him. He had another evening of studying to look forward to. One more evening. By this time tomorrow it'd finally be over.

Janken said, "Scooter, it'll be crazy around the house tonight. Always is on Sundays after the last show. And you're already tense enough. Why don't you come home with me tonight? It's quiet there."

Scooter paused, surprised. Janken continued, "And I have something for you that'll make it worth your while."

"Oh, what?" Scooter asked, intrigued.

Janken leaned close and whispered in his ear. Scooter's eyes widened. "You mean it?"

Janken nodded emphatically. "As long as you like, whenever you like," he promised with a sultry smile.

"Okay, I'm sold! Let's get our bikes."

They both grinned. Scooter had lived for years in a crowded boarding house. The unrestricted use of a full bath without having to compete with dozens of others was a rare luxury.

* * *

><p>Scooter and Janken rode to Janken's home, which was only a few miles away. They brought their bikes inside and leaned them against the wall by the door. Janken said, "I'm hungry. How about you?"<p>

"I could do with something."

"Okay." Janken and Scooter's tastes were very different. Scooter liked typical Silly Creature food. Janken was an herbivore who preferred raw fruits and vegetables. Since Scooter had been coming over more often Janken had been finding things they could both enjoy. He start cutting up some fruits and vegetables and arranging them on a plate. As he did he said, "Um—when I invited you over, I didn't mean there were any strings attached. I just want you to have some peace and quiet tonight, that's all."

"Thanks," Scooter said, hiding a frown.

Janken assumed that talking about that made Scooter uncomfortable. But if he said nothing, it'd likely be worse. He looked at the plate. He had carrots, celery, and mushrooms. No peppers, he decided with a twinge of regret. He loved them, but Scooter said they gave him dragon breath. He cut up an apple and added some strawberries—an expensive vice, but sometimes you just have to treat yourself—and grapes. He set a shallow cup of dip in the center, then cut up some cheese chunks and scattered them about the plate. That ought to do them, he thought, and if it didn't there was more. He put it on the coffeetable. "Want something to drink?"

"Water'd be good," Scooter said. He was nose-down in a spiral-bound notebook.

Janken dropped some ice cubes into a glass, filled it the rest of the way with water, and put it on the table. "Here."

"Thanks."

Janken sat on the couch beside Scooter and opened a book he had borrowed from the library a few days earlier. Since Scooter had been preparing for finals, Janken had been getting a lot of reading done too. They both sat, and read, and munched fruit and vegetables.

* * *

><p>Eventually Scooter realized he was paying no attention to what he was reading. He knew what was on the page, not because he remembered reading it, but because he had practically worn the words off the page. He wasn't preparing himself any longer, he decided, he was just tiring himself out. He closed the notebook and said, "Oh, forget it. I've had enough of this."<p>

"Done studying for the night?" Janken asked.

"Yeah. I know this stuff as well as I'll ever know it."

"Want to turn in, then?" Janken asked. It was late, and Scooter's finals were in the morning.

"Yeah." Scooter got off the couch and put his books and things in his backpack.

Janken started converting the couch into a bed, an operation accomplished by covering the side and back with a sheet, throwing another sheet over that, and topping it off with a blanket. He put a pillow at either end and told Scooter, "I'll sleep on one side of the couch and you can sleep on the other. No funny business."

Scooter said, "Jan, please, _enough _with the ten-foot-pole treatment!"

Surprised, Janken said, "I didn't mean it that way."

Scooter immediately regretted snapping at Janken. "Sorry, but—look, I'm not made of glass. _Please_ stop repeating that you're not going to pounce on me, okay?"

Softly Janken said, "I want you to be comfortable with me, that's all."

Scooter replied, "I am. Why do you think I'm not?"

"Scooter, I just want you to get a good night's sleep. I don't want to open up a can of worms."

"Too late. It's open." In a softer voice Scooter said, "I don't mean to sound harsh. I'm not mad at you. But it's gonna be on my mind if we drop it now. Come on, Jan."

Reluctantly Janken said, "All right." He sat down on the couch. Janken sat beside him and put an arm around the Fraggle. Janken leaned against Scooter and clasped his hand. "This is hard to talk about, so just let me try to get through it, okay?"

"Okay."

"It's hard to explain, not because it's complicated, but because it's so simple. To a Fraggle, at least. Scooter, you know that the culture I grew up with is very different from the culture up here. I can get along fine up here, but in my heart I'm a Fraggle."

"Yeah."

"We live in small tribes. Or colonies, or whatever you want to call them. You know everyone in the colony because you grew up with them. We don't go looking for someone to love. That just happens. You like someone as a good friend, and you get closer, and you do things together, and you have fun, and you squabble, and you just live life together, and if you really fit each other you grow together and come to love each other. That's how I feel about you, Scooter. You were a friend first, and you're still my friend, because how can you love someone otherwise?"

Scooter said, "'Just friends'?"

Janken shook his head emphatically. "No! Fraggles don't think that way. Um..." He thought, searching for a way to explain. To illustrate his point he released Scooter's hand and held his up, palm out, as a barrier between them and said, "Not _just friends-" _then clasped Scooter's hand again and drew it close to himself, "but _my friend,_ someone I love and want in my life."

Softly Scooter said, "I feel the same way. So why the ten-foot-pole treatment?"

Janken sighed. "Because I don't understand some things about Silly Creatures. There are things Fraggles consider normal, but for Silly Creatures they're taboo, and things that no Fraggle would do but a Silly Creature does without a second thought. And nobody agrees on what the taboos are! Scooter, I don't know what I can do and what I can't!"

Scooter squeezed Janken's hand, but said nothing; the dam had broken. Janken said a little sheepishly, "I told you the other day that I'm a follower, not a leader. I want _you _to lead. I flirted with you a long time before you took my hand. If you never had and we'd just stayed good friends, that would have been okay. I wouldn't have gotten tired of you just because you weren't attracted to me that way. As it is, I've been learning what's okay by letting you show me."

Scooter said, "But, Jan, this is new to me. I don't know what to do. _You _do."

Wryly Janken said, "I'm not all that experienced either. I tried pairing with a girl, and that went nowhere fast. I had a silly adolescent crush on someone I knew I had no chance with. Two complete flops, with nothing that mattered in between. Then I found you. I've been careful, letting you lead, because I couldn't bear the thought of going too far, breaking some rule I didn't know about, and driving you off."

Scooter shook his head. "I wish we'd talked about this a long time ago. We've been wasting a lot of time."

Janken chuckled, mostly from relief. "I guess so."

"Remember what you told me in the theater that first time, after we watched _The Wizard of Oz?_ I asked, 'What do we do now?'"

"I said that it's up to us, didn't I?"

"Yeah. So...let's just figure it out between the two of us, okay? Whatever we do next, let's just talk about it, not play waiting games."

"Yeah. But...can we put that aside for now? I mean, we've said enough for tonight, and I did invite you over so you could sleep in peace."

"All right."

Janken said, "I'm going to make some tea. I have some that's really good for relaxing, and I need that right now."

"I'd like some too," Scooter said. He wasn't really a tea person, but he wanted to share that with Janken.

"Sure. Oh, I have a spare pair of pajamas you can use. We're pretty much the same size, so they ought to fit you."

"Thanks." Janken looked in the box that served as Janken's wardrobe and found a neatly folded, pale green set. He went into the bathroom and closed the door to change. Janken smiled to himself, and heated the water. While that was going he put on his other pajamas.

A few minutes later Scooter came back out, carrying his clothes in his hands. He said, "They fit fine. I had a 'what the heck' moment before I realized that was a tail hole, though."

"I didn't think about that. I can sew it closed. It won't take a minute."

"Nah, it's high up enough that it doesn't bug me. It was just a surprise, that's all."

"Ah." Janken poured the tea and gave Scooter a cup. It tasted of something Scooter couldn't identify. 'Herbal' was the only word he could think of to describe it. It was good, though, and as he drank it he could feel his tension fading.

Janken said, "Um... in the interest of full disclosure, Scooter... if you were a Fraggle I wouldn't have suggested you sleep on the other side of the couch."

"Oh? What would you have suggested, then?" Scooter asked.

"Well, see, when Fraggles go to bed, it's to _sleep_. It doesn't have the same, um, physical connotation among us as it does up here. It's warm and cozy and, well, _friendly _to be asleep with someone else. Making a guest bed for someone you liked enough to ask them to sleep over would be like turning around and saying 'yuck, stay away from me'."

Scooter could see the pattern that Janken had explained earlier: he had let Scooter know what he wanted, and was waiting for him to either accept or ignore the offer. Scooter said, "You don't want me to sleep on the other side of the couch, do you?"

"I want you to sleep well. But...if you could sleep well with me, that'd be really nice," Janken said wistfully.

"Let's try it, then. If I can't sleep that way, I'll go over to the other side, no big deal. Okay?"

"Okay," Janken said with a wide smile.

They finished their tea and got ready for bed. While Janken put on his pajamas Scooter set the alarm on his cell phone. As they got under the covers Scooter joked, "You wear more clothes in bed then you do during the day."

Janken shrugged. "I get cold when I sleep if I'm not wearing pajamas."

"Oh, okay."

They lay down together. Before turning off the light Janken said, "One more thing I wanted to tell you, Scooter. I really mean what I said about how I love you. Nobody can tell what's gonna happen in the future. I hope I'm your Mister Right, but if I'm not, I still always want to share my life with you. It would break my heart to lose your friendship." He clasped Scooter's hand.

"I won't break your heart, Jan," Scooter promised.

Janken smiled, then flicked out the light. They kissed goodnight for several minutes, then settled in to go to sleep.

* * *

><p>Scooter looked up blearily when he heard a familiar chime coming from a strange direction. It took a moment to remember that he wasn't in his bed at home. For one thing, there was a warm Fraggle cozied up to his side, his arm across Scooter's back. Janken looked up, confused by the strange alarm sound, and mumbled, "Mah?"<p>

"Morning," Scooter told him.

"Oh. Yeah," Janken murmured with a bleary smile. His hair was flat on one side.

"Need to get in before I take a shower?"

"Nah, go on."

Scooter got out of 'bed'. Surprisingly, he hadn't had any trouble sleeping, even though he wasn't used to being accompanied while he did. He picked up his clothes and went to the small bathroom. Janken heard the water start after a few minutes. He sat up and yawned and stretched.

He felt happy and a little goofy. Sleeping all alone and waking up by himself was one of the dreariest things about Outer Space. He was used to it, but he didn't like it. Just waking up to see another's face gave him a lift. That it was Scooter's face made him feel almost giddy.

* * *

><p>A little while later Scooter, once again in his jeans and jacket, came out of the bathroom. Janken smiled at him, then nodded toward the hot plate and said, "Watch that for a minute, would you?"<p>

"Sure."

Janken went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth and his hair. Then he came back out. "Thanks. How about an omelet?"

"Sounds good."

Janken busied himself with eggs, mushrooms, cheese, and thinly-sliced vegetables. As he did he hummed softly, a tune that he had been hearing in his mind since he awakened. After a minute or so he began to sing softly.  
>"There's a perfect time when reality seems a dream,<br>And that perfect time can pass unnoticed and unseen.  
>And you never know it's coming; there may seem no sense or rhyme<br>To the timing of that perfect time."

Janken looked up from the hot plate, and his eyes met Scooter's. He continued,  
>"There's a perfect time and it comes to one and all<br>Just as bright sunrise follows the sunfall.  
>And you get what you give and you give what you get, and this much is true,<br>Now's that perfect time because I am looking at you."

"Did you write that?" Scooter asked quietly.

Janken shook his head, smiling. "No. I made it up just now."

"You told me you couldn't 'sing from the heart' like other Fraggles could..."

"I guess I got inspired." Janken was pleased with himself. It wasn't that great a song, he knew; the rhythm was irregular and some of the wording was clumsy. But it got the point across, and that's what mattered.

He cut the omelet in half in the pan and slid it onto two plates, then added some strawberries. He handed one plate to Scooter along with a fork and said, "Apple juice okay?"

As Scooter accepted the plate he said, "Sure."

Janken poured two glasses of juice, and they began eating. As they did their eyes kept meeting, causing them to grin goofily but not self-consciously. Janken said, "Not going to cram?"

"Nah. I'm not going to learn anything in the next few minutes that didn't stick before."

"'Kay."

When they finished Janken washed the dishes and Scooter dried them. Then Scooter said, "I'd better get going."

"Go on. You'll do great."

"I bet you're right," Scooter said with a grin. He really did feel ready for it. He'd certainly spent enough time preparing. He started to hoist his already-packed backpack onto his shoulder, then put it down again. "Jan...I don't say it a lot, but I love you."

Janken smiled widely. "You don't say it a lot, but you show it to me all the time."

There was only one way to answer that. The two kissed. When Scooter reluctantly pulled away he lifted his backpack and said, "See you at the theater."

"Good luck."

The door closed behind Scooter. Janken puttered around for a few minutes, humming dreamily to himself. Then he picked up the pajamas that Scooter had worn, rolled them into a ball, and slipped back into bed in the place where Scooter had slept. His scent was still on the pillow. Janken closed his eyes, cuddling the pajamas like a teddy bear.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken, Billie, and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. <em>One More Minute <em>is copyright © Weird Al Yankovic. and Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken and Billie are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.


	12. Chapter 12: Try a Little Harder

**Growing Together  
>Part 12: Try a Little Harder for Your Friends<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>Late that morning Janken arrived at the Muppet Theater. Each Monday they viewed the weekend's acts and decided which ones they would use in the TV episode, then came up with and filmed the backstage story. There were plenty of Muppets hanging around backstage, plus one tall human being. Weird Al didn't need to come for the first part, but he was enjoying being around the Muppets, and they welcomed him.<p>

Janken crossed the stage and switched on the camera console, and while that was warming up he went out to the auditorium. A drop cloth hung from a board was suspended in front of the curtains. Good. He went back to his console, flicked some switches, started a playback, then walked out again. The opening theme, as performed on Friday, was playing on the drop cloth. He went back to the console and turned the playback off.

Soon the other Muppets began coming over to backstage left to watch the playbacks on the monitors. Kermit asked Janken, "Is it set up?"

Janken replied, "Yes. I just tested it."

"Good." He raised his voice and spoke to the rhubarbing Muppets. "Everyone. Hey, everyone! We're going to try something different. Let's go to the seats."

Everyone went out the side of the stage and to the audience. Then they saw the makeshift screen, and guessed what was going on. Kermit sat on the rim of the orchestra pit facing the other Muppets and said, "Hi ho, everybody, and welcome to the rushes for episode 201 of _The Muppet Show_. We'll be doing this the same way as before, except we'll see it on a screen instead of all crowding around the monitors backstage. So let's get started!"

Janken had one camera trained on the front of the audience. He wasn't recording; he had it set that way so Kermit could give him directions without shouting himself hoarse. Scooter's headset didn't come close to fitting the frog. He started the playback for the Friday opening welcome and the first song, _I Will Comply_.

The Muppets in the auditorium watched that, and then the other two nights' versions. It was pretty clear that Saturday's take was the most popular, thanks to Sweetums' assistance. Kermit made a note on the checklist that Scooter had left for him, then looked up and said, "Okay, next."

* * *

><p>They ran through the acts fairly quickly. They rarely had to debate which takes were best to use on television. Good or bad, whichever was most entertaining was the one they would use. Still, to go through three shows' worth of skits and songs did take time.<p>

They were about midway through when Janken was grabbed from behind in a stealth hug. Janken yiped, then when he saw that his assailant had orange hands and green sleeves he leaned back and pressed his cheek to Scooter's. "How'd you do?"

"Great!" Scooter replied. "I aced it, no problem."

"I knew you would."

They kissed for a moment. Then Janken had to start the next playback, and Scooter grabbed his headset and went out to the auditorium. He sat on the side of Kermit that hadn't been claimed by Miss Piggy and asked, "How's it going?"

Kermit handed Scooter the clipboard with the checklist. "Pretty well. People pay more attention when they can see the acts this way. It's going faster. Good idea, Scooter."

"Thanks, boss."

The second playback of _The Judgment of Solomon_ finished. There had not been much difference in the reactions between the two. Which wasn't surprising, as there wasn't much difference between the acts. Kermit stood and said, "Okay, first one or second one?"

Over the general murmur Clifford said "Toss a coin."

"Anyone have an opinion?" Apparently nobody did. Kermit said, "All right, the first one."

Scooter made a note, then said into his headset's microphone, "Next."

"Do I have to?" Janken replied, but he had already started the playback of the jug band number.

The three takes were musically almost identical, but Janken's nervously wriggling tail, which the other Muppets found hilarious, tipped the balance in favor of the first one. He hadn't been quite as frightened the second and third time. He could see now that the act was pretty good, but he still cringed when he watched it because he remembered how upset he had been.

Eventually they got through all the acts. Janken came out from backstage and sat beside Scooter. Kermit perched on the edge of the pit again and said, "Now that we've got the acts, let's have thoughts on backstage stuff."

_"Moi_ has a few little notions," Miss Piggy said.

"Do tell."

_"Moi_ hears that _Monsieur_ Yankovic has asked to do a love song with _Moi. Moi,_ of course, accepts, assuming him to be a man of devastating good looks and taste. _Moi_ does not see him until the number itself. That will lead into the song turning into a fight, ending in an, ahem, reconciliation."

There were chuckles. "Where does she come up with these ideas?" Pepe said behind two of his hands.

Kermit nodded. "All right, that's a starter. What else?"

Rowlf remarked, "The jug band. Janken's the odd man out there. Maybe something showing him getting pulled in at the last minute? And, you know, we could bring him in as a backstage character."

Scooter began, "I don't think-"

Janken spoke up, surprising Scooter. "Um, I really don't want to be in the show itself. I get the worst case of stage fright. But I think I could do backstage stuff if you need me to, since it's just cameras. Those I can deal with."

Kermit said, "All right. Now, what else?"

* * *

><p>The Muppets threw ideas around for a few minutes. Then of their own accord they formed little clusters, hammering their ideas out into workable skits. Weird Al was at the intersection of several clusters, throwing in his ideas as well. Quietly Scooter said, "Jan, you sure you want to do a backstage skit?"<p>

"Well, no, I'm not sure. Sort of. I'm nervous. But I think I can do it. I want to try, at least."

"All right. Why don't we do it now? Nobody else'll be ready to film for a while."

"Okay."

The two went to the backstage left area. Janken set up one of the portable cameras they used for the backstage scenes and checked the framing, then said, "Okay. Um..what should I say?"

Scooter took off his headset and said, "Let's just ad-lib it. Play it like it happened, but for laughs."

"Okay."

"Turn on the camera and let's go."

Janken tapped a few buttons, then said, "Recording." He started pretending to mess with the console.

Scooter rushed into frame. "Janken, the jug player didn't show up! I need you to fill in for him!"

Janken said, "Me? But I don't go onstage! I work the cameras!"

"There's a first time for everything. Here's the costume." Scooter held out a hat and vest.

"But..." Janken froze, drymouthed.

"Cut," Scooter said.

Janken tapped a button to stop the recording and said apologetically, "Sorry, I'm no good at this."

"Don't worry. Let's try it again."

They did, and this time Janken began stammering. After Scooter called "Cut" again Janken said unhappily, "Maybe this isn't a good idea. I belong on the other side of the camera."

Miss Piggy, standing in the wings, said, _"Moi_ has an idea. Start again, and I'll come in."

"All right," Scooter said. He told Janken, "Third time's the charm."

Janken wasn't so sure. Screwing up in front of Scooter wasn't fun, but screwing up in front of Miss Piggy would be humiliating. But he didn't dare say no to her. He took a few deep breaths to regain his composure—he had to look calm at the beginning of the scene—then said, "Okay," and pressed the button.

Scooter rushed into frame. "Janken, the jug player didn't show up! I need you to fill in for him!"

Janken said, "Me? But I don't go onstage! I work the cameras!"

"There's a first time for everything, and nobody else can play the jug. Here's the costume." Scooter held out a hat and vest.

"But..."

Miss Piggy entered the scene. She said gently to Janken, "Now, dear, I know how nervous you must be, going in front of all those people on short notice."

He gulped and nodded silently.

"There there," she said sweetly as she patted his back. "It may be a little scary onstage, but-" she grabbed him by the collar with both hands and hauled him out of his chair, then snarled point-blank into his face, "-if you don't get your purple behind out there it's going to get a lot scarier _back here!"_

Wide-eyed, Janken whimpered to Scooter, "Gimme the costume!"

Brightly Scooter said "Here ya go."

Miss Piggy released Janken, who scampered off, threading his arms into the vest. Miss Piggy brushed her hair back and said, "Sometimes actors just need to understand their motivation," before making her exit.

Janken came back and tapped the button to shut off the camera. Scooter said, "Let's see how that looked."

Miss Piggy, Scooter, and Janken watched the scene. Even Janken had to grin when Miss Piggy threatened him. He looked utterly terrified. When it finished Scooter said, "I think it's a keeper."

_"Moi aussi."_

Janken nodded. It was good, and that meant he wouldn't have to do it again. "Thanks, Miss Piggy. I needed that."

She smiled at him. "Think of it as a lesson in method acting. And now I must steal Scooter away from you. Don't worry, I'll give him back when I'm finished with him."

Scooter flashed Janken a look of mock fear as he put on his headset, then grinned. Janken smiled as Scooter walked off with Miss Piggy, who was already describing the scene she had in mind. If it had been up to Janken, he would have given up after the first take. But Scooter and Miss Piggy had made him stick with it, simply assuming that he could do it. And, somehow, they had been right. Janken thought that if he didn't have much faith in himself, he would have faith in his friends.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13: Just One Person

**Growing Together  
>Part 13: Just One Person<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>It had been a long day of filming. Fun, but long. They had filmed all the extra bits that would go into the show—backstage scenes, reaction shots, and the like—and Janken had put all the usable footage together to send to the editors who would assemble it into a television episode. The Muppets plus Weird Al were now hanging out, recording improvised gag scenes with the traveling cameras just for the heck of it, and generally messing around. Kermit thought that there would be no dearth of extras for this DVD.<p>

The call Scooter had been waiting for came. He said into his cell phone, "Yeah. Out front? Be there in a moment." He put it away, then glanced around. "Hey, Beauregard, can you give me a hand?"

"Sure, Scooter!" The janitor applauded enthusiastically.

"Uh, thanks. Now, come with me. I need an extra pair of hands."

Beau followed obediently, saying, "But your jacket only has two sleeves."

* * *

><p>Several minutes later Beau and Scooter returned carrying stacks of pizza boxes, cans of soda, and bottles of water. They began setting them out on whatever flat surfaces were available. Scooter didn't bother to call the others; by now they would be hungry and alert for the smell of food. True to form, before he opened the third box the first pizza was under attack.<p>

Gonzo asked, "Did you get my special order?"

"Sure thing."

"Great! Thanks!" Gonzo looked around, then waved to Weird Al. "Hey! I got a pizza you'll really love. It's got eggs, spam, sausage, beans, spam, and spam!"

Al was impressed. Gonzo really had been going all out to make him feel at home. However... "I appreciate it, but, actually I'm a vegetarian."

"Really?" Gonzo said, surprised, then assured him, "Well, don't worry, we don't judge. In fact Janken's a vegetarian too. He's the purple guy over there. He'll know what's safe."

Janken, having heard his name and caught the end of the conversation, beckoned to Al. Al came over, saying, "We haven't met, have we?"

"No. I work the camera back there." He pointed across the stage to backstage left. "Pleased to meet you. I really enjoyed your songs."

"Thanks."

They each took a slice of a pizza that was liberally decorated with mushrooms, peppers, olives, tomatoes, and other garden produce. Janken said, "This pizza's actually vegan. The cheese isn't real. I hope that's okay."

Al assured him, "That's fine. I try to avoid dairy products too."

* * *

><p>After everyone had helped themselves to pizza and drinks they went out to the audience area and sat. Scooter claimed two seats in the front. Once again footage was projected onto the dropcloth in front of the curtains. This time it was the opening theme. By the time they got to Gonzo's trumpet gag Janken had come back from the console and sat next to Scooter.<p>

Everyone munched pizza as they watched the rough cut of the episode. Janken had strung the skits and backstage scenes together in the order they would appear on TV. Reaction shots, changes in camera angle, and other such complexities were not included; the professional editors would work all that into the final version. This was just to give them a preview.

Everyone was pleased. Even Janken had to laugh at himself on the screen. His out-of-control tail _was_ funny, and Piggy had set the scene up so that he appeared to be more afraid of her than of performing onstage.

Scooter was happy. This was a show he'd wanted to do for a long time. Getting Weird Al had been a major coup, and he had been so much fun to work with. Everything on the screen looked great. It would start off their second TV season off with a bang.

When the last act finished everyone applauded. Kermit sat on the edge of the orchestra pit and said, "Wonderful job, everyone! And let's all hear it for our fantastic guest star, Weird Al Yankovic!"

All the Muppets turned toward Al and cheered, applauded, and otherwise expressed their approval. When he could make himself heard he said, "Thanks, everyone. I've been wanting to do this show ever since your check cleared."

There was general laughter. Kermit said, "And let's welcome Janken. He's been a Muppet since he joined us last year, but now he's a full-fledged cast member."

The other Muppets applauded and cheered for Janken. Gonzo started tapping his soda can on his chair arm and chanting, "We accept him, one of us! We accept him, one of us!"

The chant quickly spread. "Gooble gobble, gooble gobble, we accept him, we accept him, one of us, one of us!"

Janken's blush turned his normally purple face maroon. He stood and faced the rest of the Muppets, who were laughing and chanting. He was nervous, but told himself to fight it back. They were his friends. He had seen the movie they were quoting, and knew the proper response. He shouted in mock outrage, "You dirty...slimy..._Muppets!"_

That broke the chant up into laughter. Still blushing, he said, "Thanks, everybody. I'll do my best."

Fozzie said, "That's the spirit! And if ya mess up, mess up _funny!"_

"Thanks," Janken said again, and sat back down, still smiling. Scooter put his arm around his shoulders and gave him a one-sided hug.

After that everyone started chatting amongst themselves. Weird Al went to the front with his phone and said, "Kermit, would you mind saying hi to my daughter, Nina?"

"I'd be happy to," the frog replied.

Weird Al dialed. While he was waiting for an answer Gonzo felt someone tap his shoulder. He looked over and saw a face very similar to his own, but purple instead of blue and with a pointier nose. "Brian!"

The alien said, "Yep! Nobody answered the door, so I let myself in."

Billie, who was standing in the seat next to Gonzo, was staring wide-eyed at Brian, "Like daddy!" she exclaimed, pointing.

Gonzo agreed, "Yes. He's like me."

"I'm Billie!" she announced.

"Hi, Billie. I'm Brian," he answered, grinning.

"Hi, Brine!" she said.

Gonzo said to Brian, "Camilla and I made our decision. Um... want to come to our dressing room?"

"Sure."

"Just a minute." Gonzo picked Billie up and glanced around. Then he went up to the front. Miss Piggy was talking into Weird Al's phone. Gonzo waited until she signed off with a kissy-kissy and handed the phone to Fozzie, then said, "Miss Piggy, would you mind watching Billie for a minute?"

"Not at all," she said cheerfully.

"Piggy!" Billie exclaimed happily as Gonzo handed her over. Billie liked Piggy, and it was mutual. Miss Piggy had a maternal streak, and he liked to let her indulge it.

Camilla was already leading Brian to the dressing room she and Gonzo shared. When they were in Gonzo shut the door. Brian asked, "What did you decide?"

Gonzo put his arm around Camilla and said, "We talked about it. And, well, it would be nice to have another chick... but we don't think we'll take you up on your offer." Camilla nodded and clucked softly.

Surprised, Brian said, "Oh. Of course, that's your right, but mind if I ask why?"

Gonzo and Camilla exchanged glances. Gonzo said, "It seemed like Billie came along at just the right time, and, well, we're happy as a family. We don't really _need_ another chick right now. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky again when the time's right. But if we don't, well, that's fine."

Brian nodded understanding. "I understand. And the idea of having someone else make a kid for you kind of squicks you, doesn't it?"

Gonzo said, "Well, I wouldn't have said it _that_ way," but Camilla nodded emphatically. Gonzo glanced at her. She clucked to him. He said, "We'd rather do it the usual way if we can."

Brian said, "It's all right, really. A lot of planet dwellers feel the same way. I'm not going to try to change your mind, but I want to tell you it's not creepy. We use science to gene-engineer babies, but we don't _manufacture_ them. It's _people_ who do the work, and _people_ who care for the children before they're ready to hatch. It's not cold or impersonal at all. Heck, _my_ parents were gene samples." He smiled. "I hope your luck strikes again. But if it doesn't, and you change your mind, the offer will still be open. I won't say anything more about it, so you tell me when and if."

"Okay," Gonzo said, a little relieved that the matter was resolved so simply.

* * *

><p>When they returned Miss Piggy was singing <em>Frère Jacques <em>in a silly falsetto with Billie. Billie knew some of the lyrics, and filled in nonsense syllables. Scooter said to Kermit, "Boss, I had an idea."

"Will it hurt or cost a lot?"

"No, not at all," Scooter said. "I've been lurking on some message boards and reading the feedback on the live show. It's been really good! But some people have been saying they miss the backstage stuff they see on TV."

Kermit agreed, "I know. But there's no way to do that during a live show."

"Well..."

Kermit knew Scooter well enough to recognize this approach. "Unless you have an idea."

"I _did_ have a few thoughts."

"Imagine that."

Scooter looked at the dropcloth. Kermit followed his glance. Scooter said, "Why not prerecord some backstage scenes and project them on a screen left of the stage? People know that's the place where everything happens. It'd be like letting the audience see through the wall. It'd give us more time to change sets, too." He turned to Janken. "We could rig up something like that, couldn't we?"

Of course Scooter already knew they could; he had checked with him earlier. He answered, "Sure. Just wire a projector up to the bottom of the balcony on that side and have those bits ready to go, it'd just be the tap of a button."

Scooter turned to Kermit. "It seems doable to me."

Kermit countered, "But we'd have to hang a screen there all the time, or have it come up and down. Think about what that would look like."

Scooter said, "Maybe not. Maybe there's something we can project it on that won't look like a big white rectangle."

Fozzie, who had been listening in, leaned over the backs of the chairs and said, "I think it's a great idea! And even if we can't use a screen, we could do it like a radio play."

"A radio play?" Scooter said.

"Sure! Just the sound, no video. Like a microphone or the intercom was left on by accident."

Enthusiastically Gonzo said, "I like it! It'd sound like they were hearing what was really going on backstage. They wouldn't know if it was real or not."

Kermit turned to Piggy, who was still playing with Billie. "What do you think?"

She looked up. "Huh?"

Scooter said, "We were talking about maybe recording some backstage scenes and playing them between acts, or 'leaking' some audio."

It sounded weird to her. But it would allow them to bring some of the backstage drama to the stage show, and thus would increase her presence. "I like it."

"So can I look into it, boss?" Scooter asked.

Kermit replied, "You're going to anyway, so go for it. If you come up with something good we'll try it out for a show or two."

"Thanks!" Scooter chirped.

Billie held her arms out to Gonzo and said "Dada!"

As Gonzo picked her up he said, "Thanks for looking after her, Miss Piggy."

"It was no problem. Bye-bye!" She wiggled her fingers at Billie, who waved back.

Piggy said to Kermit, "Little children are so cute. It's a pity there's only one at the house, isn't it?"

He knew exactly what she was driving at. _I'd make a good mother, wouldn't I?_ He stammered for a moment, then said, "Robin should be coming for a visit soon."

She looked him straight in the eyes and said, "You know what I mean." There was no anger in her tone, thankfully. Then she said, _"Moi_ is going to go change. Be back soon."

* * *

><p>Miss Piggy had finished getting back into her street clothes—which, for her, was clothing that didn't need to be dry cleaned—and was brushing out her hair as she thought about things. She had not had time to go into any depth when she heard a knock on her door. <em>"Entrez-vous,"<em> she called out.

Kermit came in. "Got a minute, Piggy?"

She turned in the chair to face him. "For _vous,_ always."

He closed the door behind himself and said cautiously, "I've been wanting to ask you something for a while, and I don't want you to get upset about it. If you don't want to answer me, that's all right, just say so."

"What's this about, Kermie?" she asked, puzzled.

It's, well, lately people have been printing pictures of you when you were little. They're beautiful pictures, Piggy. Why don't you like them?"

She looked away. This was not a question she wanted to answer. Not now, not ever. But... Kermit was the only one who asked her how she felt rather than assuming she'd be flattered. She said, "They were all taken during pageants."

"Yes. So?"

She met his eyes again. "What do you know about pageants?"

Kermit thought said, "They're beauty contests, aren't they?"

"That's right. Ever since I was a little piglet my mother entered me in pageants. Did you see the picture with the ribbon?" He nodded. "I was only a year old then."

"Yeah," he said, waiting for her to continue.

She looked away for a moment, then said, "Do you know what it's like to be a pageant child? Sure, it looks like fun, and sometimes it was, but sometimes you just want to play, but you can't, because all those other girls who could've been your friends aren't, because they're the competition instead, and you always have to be prettier than they are. And even if you want to be friends, maybe _they_ don't, because _you_ are the competition. And sometimes you don't want to spend all day dressing up and having your hair styled and your face made up so you can walk around in the bright light in shoes that hurt wearing a big fake smile on your face."

There wasn't another chair in the dressing room, so Kermit sat on a box. "That doesn't sound like much fun," he said quietly.

She snorted. "You better believe it. And when you don't win, Mommy will be so _disappointed_. Because being the most beautiful and winning is what matters. Once, when I won third place, she threw away my prize." Her voice caught. Kermit waited while she fought to regain her composure. When she looked up again she told him, "It's not a part of my life I like to remember."

He nodded and said gently, "I understand."

Angrily she continued, "And they print those pictures and people think they're oh, so _adorable!_ I'd love to ban those stupid kiddie pageants and give all those pageant moms what for!"

Kermit just nodded, listening sympathetically.

She sniffled, then said, "But it's so silly, isn't it? Getting upset about something that happened long ago and doesn't matter anymore."

"No, it's not," he told her. "It matters to you."

There was a long pause. Then she said quietly, "Thank you."

They stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just looking at each other. Then Miss Piggy said, "I haven't shown this to anybody..."

"What?"

She took one of her long, satin gloves by the fingertips and slid it off. Beneath it her hand was smooth-skinned and dainty... and her fingers were tipped with black. He held out a hand, and reluctantly she reached out and touched it.

Her fingernails were not nails, but hooves. She had shaped them to look like fingertips beneath her gloves. She said, "They make me look like I was born in a stinkin' sty."

"So you have... hoof-nails," Kermit said, stroking her fingers with his thumb. He believed her when she said she had never shown her hands to anyone else. She had worked so hard all her life to be beautiful and perfect, and treated this quirk as a deformity. She had been wearing gloves since she was a piglet. Had her mother told her that her hands were ugly and had to be concealed? Could any parent do that to their child?

"I never could file them down enough to make them look like fingernails. Now you see why I wear gloves," she told him.

"Yes, I do. Piggy, there's nothing wrong with your hands." He looked at her hand. "They're kind of cute."

Miss Piggy's first impulse was to get angry, to snatch her hand away from him and tell him not to patronize her. It was easier to get angry than to admit to feeling pain. But, right here and right now, she didn't want to. She wanted to believe what he said. She wanted to have believed it years and years ago. She whispered, "You're the only person I've shown my hands to."

He nodded calmly. He knew that she was baring more than just her hand to him. He wasn't sure what else to tell her. So he just clasped her hand and held her gaze.

It was just the right thing to say.

* * *

><p>When they came back down some time later, the party was winding down. The pizza boxes, a few of which bore the marks of Animal's teeth, were stacked in the garbage bin. The rats were doing a quick sweep of the seating area just in case anyone had dropped anything edible. Beau was warming up the bus for the trip home. Scooter was relieved to see no evidence of a recent fight between Kermit and Miss Piggy. In fact, they were holding hands, which was unusual for them. Scooter guessed that something had happened back there. Well, good for them. He went up to Kermit and said, "Al caught a cab to the airport. He said to say thanks for everything."<p>

"Oh, thanks, Scooter."

He and Piggy were preoccupied, so Scooter decided to leave them alone. He said to Janken, "Let's go."

"Yeah."

They went backstage. To Janken's surprise, Scooter picked up a backpack full of books. "What are you doing with those? I thought you'd have sold them back."

"I came straight to the theater after finals. I'll do that tomorrow, I guess."

"If you open one of those in my presence within a month, I'll throw it out a window!" Janken warned.

"What if we're outside?"

"I'll throw it _in_ a window."

Scooter grinned. "Don't worry. I'm studied out forever and ever. The next time I go break my brain, it's gonna be on something useful."

"Like a screen for backstage scenes?"

"Yeah."

"So, want to know what you're doing tomorrow?" Janken asked.

Scooter gave him an odd look. "I didn't know I had plans other than not studying."

"Let's go to a show. I have tickets."

Pleasantly surprised, Scooter said, "Which show?"

_"Street Z._ Gonzo told me all about it."

"Oh, I know that one," Scooter said, grinning. "Heck yeah, I'd like to see it. When is it?"

"Three o'clock."

"It's a date. Um, mind if I come home with you again tonight?"

Surprised and pleased, Janken replied, "Huh? Of course I don't mind."

"It's just, I think we've got something to talk about."

Janken looked at him quizzically for a moment. Then he smiled broadly. "Yeah, we do," he said.

They went to the back, walked their bikes out of the theater, and left together.

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken, Billie, Brian, and Weird Al Yankovic are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. Weird Al Yankovic is, of course, copyright © himself. All copyrighted characters and people are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken, Billie, and Brian are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14: Outtakes & Bloopers

**Growing Together  
>Extra Features: Bloopers &amp; Outtakes<strong>  
>by Kim McFarland<p>

* * *

><p>[Kermit, Fozzie, and Scooter are backstage during a rehearsal. Fozzie is in a state of tie-wringing anxiety.]<p>

Fozzie: I can't believe we're going to have Weird Al Yankovic on the show! He's the funniest guy in the music biz, and he's going to be right _here!_

Scooter: Yeah, this'll start the season off with a bang. Can't wait to meet him, huh?

Fozzie: I-I don't know if I _can!_ I mean, he's so funny! Compared to him, I'm not funny at all.

[Kermit, looking at something on his desk, frowns.]

Fozzie: Ah, Kermit, your line.

Kermit: "Kermit: [muttering] Compared to a cinderblock, you're still not funny"? I'm not saying this.

Fozzie: [Surprised and a little hurt] Ouch!

Scooter: [to the camera] Who writes this stuff?

* * *

><p>[Kermit hops out in front of the curtains.]<p>

Kermit: Welcome to The Muppet Show! Tonight we have a real treat for you. Our guest star is Weird Al Yankovic! He- [glances around the stage as if searching for someone] Weird Al?

[Fozzie Bear, wearing a frizzy perm wig, looks out from the wings.]

Kermit: Fozzie, what're you doing? Where's Weird Al?

Fozzie: The check hasn't cleared yet.

* * *

><p>[Kermit and Miss Piggy are in Miss Piggy's dressing room.]<p>

Miss Piggy: I haven't shown this to anybody...

Kermit: What?

[Miss Piggy takes one of her gloves by the fingertips and slides it off, revealing a hand with black, hooflike fingernails. Kermit holds out his hand. Reluctantly she puts her hand in his.]

Miss Piggy: They make me look like I was born in a stinkin' sty.

Kermit: Now I see why your karate chops hurt so much.

[Miss Piggy's hand closes around Kermit's in a crushing grip. Kermit yelps with pain.]

Miss Piggy: [growling] Stick to the script, frog!

* * *

><p>[Janken and Scooter are asleep spoon-fashion, Scooter behind Janken. Scooter suddenly startles awake.]<p>

Scooter: Awk!

Janken: [barely awake] Mnh?

Scooter: [patting Janken's shoulder] Jan, turn toward me.

[Janken turns to lie on his other side, facing Scooter. He smiles suggestively.]

Janken: Wanna snuggle s'more, mmm?

Scooter: No—I just can't sleep with you facing away 'cause every time you wag your tail you hit me right _there._

* * *

><p>All characters except Janken are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com), as is the overall story. Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.<p> 


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